Chapter 4

The afternoon the divorce papers arrived, I made one final request of Derek.

"Bring my SUV back before six."

He paused.

"Why?"

"My hospital bag and the baby's medical records are in the trunk, and the car seat needs to be reinstalled."

"I know. I will bring it home."

"By six."

"I said I will be there."

He ended the call first.

I did not tell him that six was also the time I planned to leave.

I did not need to pack many clothes.

Everything that truly belonged to me fit inside one suitcase.

I packed a few loose outfits, the baby's ultrasound photos, and the pregnancy guide on my nightstand, its spine cracked from use.

I did not touch anything in the nursery.

We had chosen the furniture together.

I had assembled every piece alone.

At 5:40, I sat in the living room and waited.

My hospital bag checklist lay open across my knees.

The first outfit I had bought for the baby and my phone charger were still in the SUV.

Each time another contraction came, I wrote down the time along the edge of the list, then looked toward the driveway.

I was not waiting because I could not bear to leave.

Now that I had stopped arguing, crying, or asking him to choose me, I only wanted to know whether Derek could keep one simple promise.

At six, the garage was still empty.

Fifteen minutes later, Derek sent me a voice message.

Soft music played in the background, along with Marissa's laughter.

"Her heel started bleeding again after the client dinner, so I am taking her home first. You can have the SUV tomorrow. Do not start another fight over this."

I did not reply.

One minute later, Marissa posted an update.

In the photo, she sat in the passenger seat of my SUV.

One of Derek's hands rested on the steering wheel, while her face tilted toward his shoulder.

Her high heels sat on the center console between them.

The caption read:

"The right person will never make you feel like asking for help is a burden."

The words pulled me back to the snow-covered platform a few nights earlier.

Snow striking the walls of the glass shelter.

Contractions tightening through my body.

The rideshare map frozen on my dying phone.

And Derek telling me not to turn a minor inconvenience into an emergency.

It was not that he could not keep a promise.

He had simply never considered a promise to me urgent.

At 6:30, the doorbell rang.

Taryn stood outside with a brand-new infant car seat at her feet.

"I do not know whether the old one was damaged when they put it on the garage floor, so I bought another," she said. "I checked the model. It is approved for newborns."

Together, we installed it in her car.

The buckle made a clean click when it locked into place.

I put my suitcase in the trunk, then went inside the house one last time.

I left my wedding ring on the dining table.

The signed divorce papers lay beneath it.

Beside them, I placed the photo from St. Anne and the record showing my SUV had spent the night at the Arden Hotel.

I did not leave a letter.

Derek always said I explained too much.

This time, I did not leave him a single word.

As I walked out, the baby shifted beneath my ribs.

I rested one hand over my stomach.

"I am sorry."

I did not know whether I was apologizing to my daughter or to the woman I had been, the one who had waited for Derek again and again.

Taryn opened the passenger door for me.

"Ready?"

I climbed in and fastened the seat belt below my stomach.

Taryn did not start the car right away.

"If there is anything else you want from the house, we still have time to go back."

Through the window, I looked at the place where I had lived for five years.

Inside stood the crib we had chosen together, and an entire wall was covered with wedding photos.

A place could hold years of shared memories and still stop being home.

"Let's go."

My daughter had a safe car seat again, while her father drove my SUV so another woman would not have to walk from the curb to her front door.

Taryn closed the door, and I did not look back.