Chapter 2

After saying that, Ethan helped Sophie toward the guest room, as if my silence counted as consent.

I remained in the living room and took the baby socks from my shopping bag. The pale blue knitted fabric was so soft it felt almost weightless.

I had imagined the expression Ethan would make when he received them. Now, the thought only felt bitterly ironic.

Less than twenty minutes later, Sophie's door opened again.

She emerged wrapped in a thin blanket, her eyes slightly red.

"I don't think I can stay in that room," she said softly. "The window faces the street, and the traffic is too loud. The doctor said noise and lack of sleep could both affect the baby."

I glanced at the time.

It was nine at night, and outside, it was so quiet I could hear the leaves rustling.

"Then you can stay at the hospital," I said. "There are doctors there around the clock. It's the perfect place to protect your precious baby."

Sophie's expression stiffened.

Ethan immediately cut in. "Claire, she's only pointing out a practical problem."

"And I gave her a practical solution."

"The master bedroom faces the garden, so it's quieter than the guest room." He paused, as though choosing the best way to make me accept it. "You and I can move into the guest room for now, and Sophie can take the master bedroom."

I stared at him, wondering if I had heard him correctly.

I had chosen the curtains in the master bedroom. Our wedding photo hung above the headboard, and the jewelry my mother had left me was kept in the walk-in closet.

It was the room I had lived in for five years.

Now he wanted me to give it to another woman.

"If you want to give up your half, go ahead." I rose to my feet. "But I'm not giving up mine."

"She's pregnant."

"Pregnancy isn't a free pass to take over someone else's bedroom."

Sophie bit her lip. "Forget it, Ethan. I'll endure it. If something really does happen to the baby, then I guess that's just my fate."

"Don't say that." Ethan gripped her shoulders before turning to me. "It's only a bedroom. Why do you have to fight her over it?"

I suddenly laughed.

"If it's only a bedroom, why does she have to have it?"

The question left Ethan speechless for a beat. Then his face darkened. "I'm not arguing with you over this. She needs to rest. This is how we're handling it tonight."

He had made Sophie's decision for her—and mine for me.

I didn't argue again. I simply turned and went upstairs.

Ethan clearly thought I had given in, and the tension visibly left his face.

But ten minutes later, I had packed all his clothes, pillows, and toiletries into two suitcases and pushed them outside the guest room.

Then I returned to the master bedroom and removed the bedding, our wedding photo, the diffuser, and every other personal belonging.

I even rolled up the thin cashmere mattress topper.

Sophie stood in the doorway, staring in disbelief at the room that now contained nothing but a bare bed.

"Isn't this what you wanted? Somewhere quiet?" I handed her a spare set of sheets. "The room is yours."

Ethan grabbed my wrist. "Do you have to make this so ugly?"

I wrenched myself free.

"You're the one forcing your wife out of the master bedroom to make room for another woman. I'm not the one making this ugly."

I dragged my luggage into the guest room and locked the door.

Outside, Ethan was still speaking softly as he comforted Sophie.

In that moment, I realized that, in Ethan's heart, her baby might come before ours.