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At thirty-six weeks pregnant, I was stranded at a train station in a blizzard, and my contractions had already started. My husband told me to find my own ride home, yet took his coworker to the hospital because her new shoes had rubbed her heel raw. Even after an ambulance took me away, he did not answer a single message. He had always believed that no matter how many times he left me behind, I would still be there. It was not until he came home to an empty house that he finally understood. This time, he was the one who had been left behind.