Chapter 3

The next morning, when I opened the guest room door, Sophie's laughter was already drifting out of the master bedroom.

Ethan came upstairs carrying a breakfast tray with oatmeal, warm milk, and fruit cut into bite-sized pieces.

He had made it all himself.

In the past five years, whenever I was sick, the most he had ever done was text me to ask whether I had taken my medicine.

When he saw me, his steps faltered.

"I made a reservation for seven tonight," he said. "I haven't forgotten our anniversary."

"You'd better not have."

I stepped aside to let him pass. Sophie might have repeatedly tried to entangle herself with Ethan, but she was carrying another man's child.

I told myself that once Ethan knew I was pregnant with our own child, he would stop focusing so much on another woman.

I arrived at the restaurant at six forty that evening.

White roses decorated the table by the window, and a bottle of nonalcoholic champagne sat waiting for us.

The server told me Ethan had reserved their anniversary dinner package in advance.

I had just taken my seat when he called.

"Claire, I don't think I can make it tonight."

I heard a door close on the other end, followed by Sophie's muffled sobs.

Staring at the empty chair across from me, I drew a deep breath. "Why?"

"Sophie is having abdominal pain and some bleeding. I need to take her to the hospital right now."

"Call an ambulance."

"She's scared."

"A doctor can save her baby. What can you do? Sit beside her and let her hold your hand?"

Ethan fell silent for a moment before impatience crept into his voice. "This isn't the time to argue about that."

"Today is our wedding anniversary."

"I know. I'll make it up to you."

"Last year, you said you'd make up for canceling my birthday. The year before that, you said you'd make up for leaving me to attend the family gathering alone." I slowly twisted the wedding ring on my finger. "Ethan, does ‘making it up to me' always mean some imaginary next time?"

"It's only dinner. A human life matters more than an anniversary."

I let out a laugh.

"If it's only dinner, then there's no need to make it up to me."

He didn't seem to understand what I meant. "Go home for now. I'll contact you once her examination is over."

"Don't bother."

I ended the call and switched off my phone.

The server approached hesitantly. "Ma'am, would you like me to leave the place setting for your other guest?"

"No."

I removed Ethan's plate myself, gave the white roses to the young couple at the next table who were celebrating their engagement, and changed the dinner for two to a meal for one.

When dessert arrived, the words "Happy Anniversary" were written along the edge of the plate.

I picked up my fork and scraped away "Anniversary," leaving only "Happy."

I couldn't allow the same woman to ruin every important moment in my life.

For the sake of my unborn child, I could endure this a little longer—as long as Ethan didn't cross my final line.

At least tonight, I had no intention of punishing myself for his absence.

I took the gift box I had spent all day preparing from my handbag.

A handwritten card was attached to the lid.

"For the man who's about to become a father."