Chapter 1

I came across a cheating scandal video online.

A young man was completely naked, and a woman curled under the covers, sobbing.

The man who'd caught them stood over her, fist tangled in her hair.

He said, "I spend that much money on you every month, and this is what you do? You sleep around?"

She screamed back through tears. "You made me get rid of the baby! You're the one who wouldn't even admit we were together."

Then the hotel door burst open.

Another man rushed in, yanked the older guy off her, and slammed him to the floor.

In the chaos, he wrapped his coat around the woman, shoved the young man out of the room.

"Cecelia, don't do this to yourself. Keep the baby. If he doesn't want it, I do," he said.

The camera jolted, the frame shaking, and then it caught his hand at her waist.

A ring flashed under the light, my fiancé's ring.

*****

"What are you watching?" Oscar Barnett called out.

He walked out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of breakfast.

He said, "I put together a full meal for you. Make sure you finish everything, and remember to take your medicine half an hour after you eat."

He gave my forehead a light tap.

"I was only gone for a few days and your stomach's already acting up again. Vivienne, how would you even survive without me?"

There was a knot in my chest that just wouldn't go away.

I handed him my phone, and after turning the words over in my mind again and again, I finally spoke up. "Is that you?"

Oscar glanced at the screen, looking totally unfazed.

"What's this? A cheating video?" He laughed. "I don't care about other people's gossip."

I stared at his face, hoping to catch even a flicker of guilt.

But there was nothing.

Oscar stayed completely detached, like he had nothing to do with any of it.

"You should stop watching all that trash. You'll rot your brain," he said. "And now you're even suspecting me?"

He shot me a warning look.

I was caught off guard.

He usually never talks to me this way.

My eyes landed on his ring finger. It was bare.

"Where's your ring?" I asked.

"It's at the office," he said. "I took it off before surgery and forgot to put it back on."

Oscar started putting on his coat.

"If you've got nothing better to do, go find something to keep yourself busy," he said. "Otherwise, you'll just end up overthinking and acting all suspicious."

With that, he walked out without even looking back.

There was not even a goodbye kiss, not even a simple goodbye.

I called Vivienne Faulkner. "Has your boss been out of town lately?"

"No," she replied. "He just took a few days off.

"He went to Ravenorville with some girl—maybe a junior from college or something—to learn about pregnancy care from his mentor."

My phone dropped to the floor.

The call cut off abruptly.

My heart was racing wildly.

My hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and the red wedding decorations on the window blurred. Everything was fuzzy, the bright red almost burning into my vision.

That was my whole youth, all six years of it.

I just couldn't take it.

I ran out barefoot.

Everyone was staring as I ran by.

"Is she crazy? Why's she running around in her pajamas and barefoot?"

"She's actually crying."

I was out of breath, letting the tears fall.

My feet were torn up, caked with dirt and blood, numb from the asphalt, but I stormed straight into Oscar's office.

"Where is he?" I shouted. "Oscar!"

The intern stepped back, eyeing me warily. "You're not allowed in here."

I marched straight to his desk.

On top, there was a pregnancy notebook.

It was all about a woman named Cecelia Morris.

Each month had detailed notes—what nutrients she needed, the baby's condition, and even her mood.

Tears soaked the pages.

I ripped the notebook to shreds and swept everything off the desk, sending it crashing to the floor.

"Who let this lunatic in? Get out! I'm calling security!" the intern shrieked.

I stared at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the person looking back.

My hair was all over the place, my eyes swollen and red, and my whole body was trembling nonstop.

Any shred of dignity I had was gone.

I rushed out, pushing my way through a swarm of security guards, searching every floor for Oscar.

Finally, outside the obstetrics department, I finally spotted him.

Oscar was sitting on a bench with his back to me, looking just like any other husband waiting for his wife.

He was blowing on a roasted apple pie and kept glancing up at the exam room every so often.

The door swung open.

Oscar went over and wrapped Cecelia in his arms.

"Hand me the report. Eat your apple pie first," he said. "I got it from that place in Ravenorville. I know it's your favorite, but I had to wait in line for half an hour."

I was rooted to the spot.

I stared at them, not even blinking, watching their intimate gestures.