Chapter 4

Daniel did not come home until eight on Friday morning.

He dragged his suitcase to the front door and acted as if nothing had happened.

I placed the paperwork for my appointment beside his coffee.

"My appointment starts at eight thirty."

"Even if it takes an hour, you'll still make your 3:10 p.m. flight."

Daniel did not sit down.

He fastened his watch while answering a message from Kate.

"She and Sophie have already left."

"We planned to have brunch before going to the lounge together."

"I need to go now."

"You promised to come to my appointment."

"Isn't your mother here?"

"The two of you have decided I'm the enemy anyway."

"Let her take you."

"She's been caring for you for two days, so she knows more about your condition than I do."

"She will take me."

"But you're the baby's father."

"Have her record what the doctor says."

"When I land, you can tell me the important parts."

He said it as if my mother's presence had already fulfilled his responsibilities as a husband.

I held my hand over the appointment paperwork.

"What if the doctor admits me today?"

Daniel checked the time.

"Then call me."

"I can change my flight and come back."

His phone buzzed again.

Kate wanted to know how much longer he would be.

Daniel lifted his suitcase and stepped around me to open the door.

"Sophie has wanted this Christmas trip for years."

"You have plenty of appointments left."

"It's not as if you're giving birth today."

He stopped in the doorway.

"Don't turn one trip into a test of our marriage."

"All right."

I moved aside.

"Go."

Relief crossed Daniel's face.

"I'll be back next Wednesday."

"We can talk about the suite and the group chat then."

After the door closed, I spread the two-page itinerary across the dining table.

Three seats there.

Three seats back.

Every seat had a name.

Not one of them belonged to me.

The separation notice my attorney had prepared lay beneath it.

I signed my name, removed my wedding ring, and placed it beside Daniel's seat on the outbound flight.

I did not leave the two Mason Hotel charges on the table.

They were already stored with the photographs and call logs in the encrypted folder my attorney had sent me.

I turned off location sharing, picked up my hospital bag, and got into my mother's car.

My plan had been to go straight to her house after the appointment.

But that day, I never left the hospital.

By 9:40 a.m., the monitor was recording contractions five minutes apart.

After examining me, the doctor had a nurse transfer me to an observation room in labor and delivery.

At 12:58 p.m., my water broke.

The nurse pressed the bedside call button.

Within seconds, several people rushed in with equipment.

The doctor said my cervix was dilating quickly.

The baby might be born that day.

I picked up my phone and called Daniel.

He did not answer.

The second call went straight to voicemail.

The airline app showed his flight taxiing toward the runway.

At 1:18 p.m., the status changed to "Departed."

Mom asked whether she should keep trying him.

Another contraction closed over me.

I gripped the bed rail and shook my head.

"Don't chase him."

He had already made his choice.

At 4:26 that afternoon, my daughter was born five weeks early.

She weighed only four pounds, three ounces.

Her cry was thin and brief.

I did not even have time to hold her before the medical team took her to the neonatal intensive care unit.

As the nurse straightened my blankets, a message from Kate appeared on my phone.

The plane had connected to Wi-Fi.

She sent a photo.

Daniel and Kate sat side by side, leaning over the same old photo album.

Sophie was asleep against the window.

Kate had written, "She's so happy today."

"Thank you for not making things difficult for Daniel again."

"This Christmas trip means so much to the three of us."

"I haven't seen him this happy in years."

I saved the photo, then turned off the screen.

Daniel had missed my call when his daughter was born.

I no longer cared whether he sat beside Kate or slept in the same hotel suite with her.

All I knew was that he would return to an empty house.

Neither his wife nor his daughter would ever wait for him there again.