Chapter 3

At four in the morning, Vincent came home from his daughter's hospital bed.

I lay on the living room sofa. I pretended to be asleep.

Vincent picked me up gently. He carried me to our bed.

He took off his coat and lay down next to me. He pulled me close to his chest. He breathed in my scent.

"I am home," he whispered.

To him, those words meant everything was back to normal. He had handled the crisis. Now he was back in his real home.

I did not push him away. I knew this was the last time he would hold me as my husband.

The next morning, Vincent woke up early.

He smiled and handed me a shiny brass key. It was my second anniversary gift.

"It is for a lake house," he said softly. "It has the greenhouse you wanted. A quiet reading window. A small music room."

He paused. He gently touched my cheek.

"And it has a large, sunny empty room," he said. "We can decorate it as a bedroom for the child we are going to adopt. "

He was not lying. He really wanted to live there with me. He really wanted to raise a child with me.

He got dressed in a fresh suit.

"A project in the next city has an urgent issue, I have to go handle it for a day."

I looked at him. I knew the truth.

There was no project issue. Rosie was safe and out of the hospital.

But he was going back to her. He was going to watch her open her birthday gifts. He was going to take the father-daughter photos they missed the day before.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Wait for me tonight," he said.

I asked no questions and made no attempt to keep him there.

I reached out and fixed his tie.

"Drive safe," I said calmly.

As soon as the front door clicked shut, I started moving.

Before dawn, I had completed every step that could be handled immediately.

Megan had confirmed that the small cabin behind her cousin’s inn was available.

My business partner had accepted temporary control of the floral studio by email.

I had submitted online requests to change my emergency contact and transfer my prenatal care.

I opened my small suitcase.

I only packed my everyday clothes. My ID. My mother's old watch. My floral tools. And the original ultrasound photo.

I walked to the kitchen island.

I took off my heavy diamond ring. I placed it on the cold marble.

I put the new anniversary necklace right next to it. Then, I set down the lake house key.

Next to the key, I placed the divorce agreement my lawyer had emailed before dawn. I had printed and signed it at home.

Finally, I put down a white envelope.

Inside the envelope was a copy of the ultrasound photo. A pair of tiny white baby socks. And a pregnancy card I never gave him.

I wrote one line on the back of the card:

[You were already being her father when I came to tell you about our baby.]

At that exact moment, on the other side of the city, Vincent sat in a sunny living room.

Rosie sat on his lap. She excitedly opened a mountain of gifts.

A hired photographer stood in front of them.

"Smile, Daddy!" Rosie cheered.

Vincent smiled brightly for the camera. Celia stood just outside the frame. She watched them with a soft look.

Vincent pulled out his phone. He sent a text to my number.

I will be home before dinner. Wait for me.

I sat by the window on a moving train. The city slowly disappeared behind me.

I looked at his message on the screen.

I did not reply. I opened my phone tray, took out my SIM card, and snapped it in half.

Vincent still believed he was moving safely between two families.

He did not know that one of them no longer existed.