Chapter 2

After Nolan said that, no one touched the schedule.

Paige stood in the guest-room doorway, still holding the sleeve of my gray cardigan. Nolan watched me, waiting.

I set the schedule back on the counter.

“I need to see the joint account,” I said.

“Now?”

“Now.”

He didn’t stop me. He probably thought the numbers would make his version of helping sound reasonable.

I took my laptop to the study.

It was where I worked from home, with shelves of children’s books behind my desk.

Last year, while I tried to rescue a troubled series, Nolan had told me I could always find order in a mess.

Now he had used the same skill to decide when I would leave our baby and return to pay the bills.

The joint-account page opened.

I checked the last three months.

The first charge was a $2,400 lease-termination fee, paid to Paige’s landlord.

Then came weekly counseling bills.

Then six purchases marked Baby Basics: a monitor, a bottle sterilizer, a nursing pillow, a portable crib.

Nolan had added a note beneath each one.

Paige can keep it at the house.

The lease-termination fee and the first counseling payment had gone through ten days before I told Nolan I was pregnant. The baby purchases began the week after.

The printer on my desk suddenly whirred.

I looked up.

Paige stood outside the study. A manila folder lay on the floor beside her.

“That should be mine,” she said.

“Then take it.”

But the folder was open. A handwritten page stuck out, titled Moving Timeline.

I saw my due date.

Guest room cleared. Nursery support station. Maya returns to work.

Paige shoved the paper back inside.

“Nolan wrote that,” she said quickly. “I didn’t ask him to—”

“When did you start discussing the end of my maternity leave?”

She pressed her lips together.

“He was worried you’d be exhausted.”

“So you decided I would go back to work while you stayed home with my baby?”

“I thought I could help.” Her voice dropped. “I never wanted to push you out.”

“But you wrote down when I would come home.”

She took the folder and went back to the guest room.

I kept checking the account until the shared tablet lit up.

It normally stayed in the kitchen, where we kept bills and appointment reminders. It also synced Nolan’s messages and voice transcripts.

He had left his conversation with Paige open.

A voice message from three months earlier had been transcribed on the screen.

Nolan: When the baby comes, you won’t feel like you have nothing anymore.

Paige: I don’t want Maya to think I’m taking over.

Nolan: She’ll understand. You’re not taking anything from her. You’ll be part of the baby’s life. A real part.

I stared at the words.

Tessa arrived then.

We had planned to meet for dinner. She came into the study carrying two containers of soup, saw my face, then the schedule on the desk.

“Bad time?” she asked.

“Actually, it’s a good time.”

I turned the tablet toward her.

Tessa put down the soup, sat beside me, and copied the payment dates onto a sticky note.

“This didn’t start tonight,” she said.

“No.”

“Do you want to come home with me?”

I didn’t answer right away.

From the guest room came the sound of suitcase wheels. Paige was moving into my house.

Downstairs, Nolan was on the phone, probably explaining to his mother why I was upset.

I exported the account history to my personal email and printed the timeline.

A few minutes later, a message appeared in the family group chat.

Paige had posted a photo of pale yellow baby socks.

I finally get to be someone’s needed person again.

Nolan hadn’t only given her a place to stay.

He had given her a future.

And he had written it with my baby.