Chapter 1

It was in a baby store that I spotted my husband, James Carter, tying the shoelaces for Celia Lynn.

That day, I was thirty-two weeks pregnant. I'd just finished my prenatal checkup in the hospital and went to that store by a cab alone, planning to check out some cribs. But the moment I stepped inside, I heard James's voice.

"Let's get two sets of these baby bottles. Your skin is sensitive, so you must pick the mildest care products," James said.

I stopped in my tracks, feeling like my breath had slammed into a wall of glass.

Celia stood next to him, her belly round and prominent under a loose maternity dress. She rested her hand on James's shoulder like second nature.

James was half-crouched, one hand steadying her calf, the other tying her loose shoelace like he had done it a hundred times before.

The store clerk smiled and said, "You're so thoughtful. You really take good care of your wife."

Neither James nor Celia deny it.

She even looked down with a small smile and murmured, "James, don't buy so much. Olivia's going to get annoyed if she sees this."

I stood behind the stroller, my hand still gripping the edge of the counter, and out of nowhere, a bitter laugh almost slipped out.

They knew all along that I'd be upset.

It wasn't that they didn't know their limits. They knew but just didn't care.

I pushed the stroller and headed straight for the exit.

The wheels let out a faint squeak on the floor, and James looked up, his face falling.

"Olivia?" He was stunned.

There weren't many people around. It was quiet enough for me to hear the panic in his voice.

I looked at him, my voice steady and cold. "Go ahead. Weren't you about to buy her two sets of baby bottles?"

Celia instinctively stepped back, one hand shielding her belly, looking startled. "Olivia, it's not what you think. I just—"

"You just happen to be pregnant, and need my husband to pick out a breast pump for you, tie your shoelaces, and shop for baby stuff with you, right?" I cut her off.

James frowned and walked over to me. "Don't be so harsh. Celia's got a lot going on right now. Her husband doesn't care about her. What's wrong with me giving her a hand?"

"Giving her a hand?" I questioned.

I glanced at the shopping cart.

There was a maternity kit, baby wipes, a sterilizer, a mattress, a pregnancy pillow, a postnatal toothbrush, and even a fancy bottle warmer that cost over 700 dollars.

That was not called "giving her a hand".

I only went there to buy a crib alone because after I reminded him three times last week, he only said "We'll do it next time."

I stared at him and suddenly asked, "James, do you remember when my last prenatal checkup was?"

He opened his mouth, but his face went stiff.

I answered for him, "You don't remember. Because that day, you were with Celia for her fetal monitoring."

The store clerk quietly backed away, and even the customer shopping for formula couldn't help but glance over.

James's face darkened. "Do you really have to make a scene in public?"

"Make a scene?" I let out a bitter laugh. "You're buying a whole cart of baby stuff for another woman, and I can't even complain?"

Celia's eyes welled up with tears. "Olivia, please don't blame James. I'll pay him back for everything."

"Oh, really?" I shot back.

I glanced at her belly and said, "Why don't you tell me who your baby's father is? Let him cover the bill."

James's face darkened instantly. "Olivia!"

He yelled at me like I just made an unforgivable mistake.

I looked at him, and whatever last shred of humiliation I felt just froze over.

"Oh, did I ask the wrong question?" I shot back.

James tried to keep his anger in check and reached for me. "Let's deal with this at home."

I stepped back, avoiding his hand. "Don't touch me."