Chapter 3 · He Thought He Won, Then She Left

After I sent the money, I tossed my phone onto the table. My chest felt tight, like I couldn't draw a full breath.

Did I actually do something wrong? I was holding my ground.

I refused to end up like my father, bled dry by his family, left with nothing. Was that really so unreasonable?

My assistant knocked on the door and poked his head in. "Mr. Reed, everything's set for the Stellar Group meeting this afternoon."

"Got it." I waved him away.

Work was the only thing that kept me steady.

I threw myself into prepping for the afternoon, forcing the hospital calls out of my head.

The meeting went well. I finally landed the contract I'd been chasing for months.

The CEO of Stellar couldn't stop talking about how sharp I was. He called me young, driven, and decisive. Over dinner, he kept raising his glass to me.

I drank more than I should have. By the time I got home, it was nearly eleven. The apartment was dark.

I flipped on the lights. The place was empty. It hit me then that Karina was still at the hospital.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and poured a glass. The liquor burned going down, made my head swim a little.

I pulled out my phone. There were no messages from her.

But my feed was buzzing. An old college buddy was posting about his newborn.

There was a photo of his wife in a hospital bed, holding the baby, both of them glowing.

He captioned it: [Babe, you've been through so much. I'll take care of you and our little one.]

I snorted. Responsibility. Easy to say now. Another guy drowning in hormones.

Once the passion wore off, all that was left was the chaos of bills, chores, and everyday nonsense. That was when he would realize how laughable his promises really were.

I was the only one thinking clearly here. I poured another drink.

My phone lit up. It was a bank notification.

My secondary card had been hit for 90 bucks at a baby store. It must've been Karina.

That card I gave her only had a 150 dollar limit for picking up household stuff now and then.

She was in the hospital. Why would she need baby stuff?

I called her immediately. The phone rang for a long time before she picked up. There was noise in the background.

"Hello?" Her voice was faint. It almost sounded like she was trying to hide.

"What did you buy? You spent ninety dollars."

"A maternity kit," Karina answered quietly.

"A maternity kit? We agreed to split baby expenses. Why'd you use my card?"

"I don't have any cash left."

"What about the one thousand and six hundred I sent you today?"

"I paid the deposit and had some tests done. I've got less than a hundred left."

"Then you should've called me first. Karina, you're breaking our agreement," I snapped, my voice getting louder.

She went quiet. All that was left was the muffled sound of her sobbing. She was crying.

Crying? I hated it. It was the oldest trick in the book.

"What are you crying for? Tell me. Am I wrong? We set rules, we stick to them. Otherwise, how are we any different from those families that are always a mess?"

"Michael..." Her voice cracked. "I wanted to buy something nice for the baby and me. The doctor said things aren't looking great. I might have to deliver early."

"So that's an excuse to blow money?"

"It's not blowing money. It's stuff we actually need!" Karina yelled at me for the first time, her voice trembling with anger.

"Then we both pay for it! Who said you could decide on your own and stick me with the bill?"

"You're seriously losing it over nighty bucks?"

It's not about the money. It's about the rules! Without ground rules, what kind of family are we even running?"

On the other end, there was a dead silence.

Then, slowly, Karina spoke. "Fine. I understand. I'll pay you back for the maternity kit. Forty-five dollars."

She hung up.

I stared at the dark screen. The frustration didn't fade. It curdled into something worse.

She hung up on me? She was the one in the wrong, and she was acting like the victim?

I drained my glass. The whiskey slid down cold, but it didn't touch the heat in my chest.

*****

The next morning, my phone wouldn't stop ringing. Dragged me out of a dead sleep. My head pounded from last night.

The screen said "Karina's Mom." I picked up, frowning.

"Michael, how's Karina? I heard she's in the hospital?" Melissa's voice was tight with worry.

"Just a minor thing. They're keeping an eye on her."

"Minor? Nothing about pregnancy is minor! Are you even taking care of her? I told you to let her quit her job and rest at home, but you never listen, do you?"

That was the same old nagging and the same tired complaints.

Chapter 3

After I sent the money, I tossed my phone onto the table. My chest felt tight, like I couldn't draw a full breath.

Did I actually do something wrong? I was holding my ground.

I refused to end up like my father, bled dry by his family, left with nothing. Was that really so unreasonable?

My assistant knocked on the door and poked his head in. "Mr. Reed, everything's set for the Stellar Group meeting this afternoon."

"Got it." I waved him away.

Work was the only thing that kept me steady.

I threw myself into prepping for the afternoon, forcing the hospital calls out of my head.

The meeting went well. I finally landed the contract I'd been chasing for months.

The CEO of Stellar couldn't stop talking about how sharp I was. He called me young, driven, and decisive. Over dinner, he kept raising his glass to me.

I drank more than I should have. By the time I got home, it was nearly eleven. The apartment was dark.

I flipped on the lights. The place was empty. It hit me then that Karina was still at the hospital.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and poured a glass. The liquor burned going down, made my head swim a little.

I pulled out my phone. There were no messages from her.

But my feed was buzzing. An old college buddy was posting about his newborn.

There was a photo of his wife in a hospital bed, holding the baby, both of them glowing.

He captioned it: [Babe, you've been through so much. I'll take care of you and our little one.]

I snorted. Responsibility. Easy to say now. Another guy drowning in hormones.

Once the passion wore off, all that was left was the chaos of bills, chores, and everyday nonsense. That was when he would realize how laughable his promises really were.

I was the only one thinking clearly here. I poured another drink.

My phone lit up. It was a bank notification.

My secondary card had been hit for 90 bucks at a baby store. It must've been Karina.

That card I gave her only had a 150 dollar limit for picking up household stuff now and then.

She was in the hospital. Why would she need baby stuff?

I called her immediately. The phone rang for a long time before she picked up. There was noise in the background.

"Hello?" Her voice was faint. It almost sounded like she was trying to hide.

"What did you buy? You spent ninety dollars."

"A maternity kit," Karina answered quietly.

"A maternity kit? We agreed to split baby expenses. Why'd you use my card?"

"I don't have any cash left."

"What about the one thousand and six hundred I sent you today?"

"I paid the deposit and had some tests done. I've got less than a hundred left."

"Then you should've called me first. Karina, you're breaking our agreement," I snapped, my voice getting louder.

She went quiet. All that was left was the muffled sound of her sobbing. She was crying.

Crying? I hated it. It was the oldest trick in the book.

"What are you crying for? Tell me. Am I wrong? We set rules, we stick to them. Otherwise, how are we any different from those families that are always a mess?"

"Michael..." Her voice cracked. "I wanted to buy something nice for the baby and me. The doctor said things aren't looking great. I might have to deliver early."

"So that's an excuse to blow money?"

"It's not blowing money. It's stuff we actually need!" Karina yelled at me for the first time, her voice trembling with anger.

"Then we both pay for it! Who said you could decide on your own and stick me with the bill?"

"You're seriously losing it over nighty bucks?"

It's not about the money. It's about the rules! Without ground rules, what kind of family are we even running?"

On the other end, there was a dead silence.

Then, slowly, Karina spoke. "Fine. I understand. I'll pay you back for the maternity kit. Forty-five dollars."

She hung up.

I stared at the dark screen. The frustration didn't fade. It curdled into something worse.

She hung up on me? She was the one in the wrong, and she was acting like the victim?

I drained my glass. The whiskey slid down cold, but it didn't touch the heat in my chest.

*****

The next morning, my phone wouldn't stop ringing. Dragged me out of a dead sleep. My head pounded from last night.

The screen said "Karina's Mom." I picked up, frowning.

"Michael, how's Karina? I heard she's in the hospital?" Melissa's voice was tight with worry.

"Just a minor thing. They're keeping an eye on her."

"Minor? Nothing about pregnancy is minor! Are you even taking care of her? I told you to let her quit her job and rest at home, but you never listen, do you?"

That was the same old nagging and the same tired complaints.