Chapter 4

The afternoon the divorce papers arrived, I made one last request of Callum.

"Bring my car back before six."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Why?"

"My hospital bag and the baby's medical records are in the trunk. We also need to reinstall the car seat."

"I know. I will bring it home."

"Six o'clock."

"I said I will be there."

He hung up first.

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

I did not need 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 worn pregnancy guide from my nightstand.

I did not touch anything in the nursery.

We had chosen the furniture together.

But I had assembled every piece alone.

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

The checklist from my hospital bag lay open across my knees.

My identification, the baby's clothes, and my charger were all still in my car.

Every few minutes, I looked out the window and recorded another contraction.

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

On the last day when I would no longer argue, cry, or ask him to choose, I simply wanted to know if Callum could keep one easy promise.

At six, the garage was still empty.

At 6:15, Callum sent me a voice message.

Soft music played in the background. Celeste was laughing.

"She is afraid to drive at night, so I am taking her home first. You can have the car tomorrow. Do not lose your temper over something this small."

I did not reply.

One minute later, Celeste posted an update.

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

Callum's hand rested on the steering wheel while she leaned her face toward his shoulder.

The caption read:

"Someone who truly cares about you will never make you face your fear alone."

The words pulled me back to the interstate a few nights earlier.

The rain.

The contractions.

The phone with three percent battery.

And his words, "You need to learn how to handle an emergency."

It was not that he could not make that promise.

He had simply never made it to me.

At 6:30, the doorbell rang.

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

"I do not know whether the old one was damaged when they dropped it, so I bought a new one," she said. "I checked the model. It is approved for newborns."

Together, we installed it in her car.

The buckle made a clean click as it locked.

I placed my suitcase in the trunk and went back inside one last time.

I left my wedding ring on the dining table.

The signed divorce papers lay beneath it.

I did not leave a letter.

Callum always said I explained too much.

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

As I walked out, the baby shifted gently inside me.

I rested a hand over my belly.

"I am sorry."

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

Della opened the passenger door for me.

"Ready?"

I climbed in and fastened my seat belt.

Della did not start the car right away.

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

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

Inside was the crib I had chosen and an entire wall covered with our wedding photos.

But a place can hold a lifetime of shared memories and still stop being a home.

"Let's go."

The first time my daughter had a truly safe car seat, her father was driving my car to make sure another woman got home safely.

The door closed, and I never looked back.