Chapter 3

James was taken aback.

"I'm also a pregnant woman. I go to all the checkups alone, pick up the test results by myself, and spend sleepless nights all on my own. Do you ever think about me when you feel sorry for her?" I said.

James frowned, his tone softening a bit. "Don't you still have me?"

I looked down at the pile of receipts on the table and gave a bitter laugh. "Do I?"

He was caught off guard by my question. After a couple of seconds, he sounded a bit impatient. "Don't get hung up on this. Celia's not like you."

"How is she any different?" I pressed.

"You've got me, this home, and a stable life. She's got nothing at all," he said.

"That's why you should treat her like your wife?" I shot back.

James's face darkened. "You're being cruel."

"It's cruel because it's true," I shot back.

I shoved a receipt across the table toward him.

It was the receipt from baby store he'd swiped his card at that afternoon. His signature was written out carefully, exactly like the one he uses on company contracts.

"That's my supplementary card, and I set the spending limit myself. James, when you swiped it, did it ever occur to you that I'm pregnant too?" I asked.

His eyes flickered, but he kept up his tough act. "Are you really going to nitpick over every dollar?"

I looked at him and felt hopeless.

"So that's all you see in me? Someone who just cares about money?" I asked.

"Isn't that what you're doing?" He rubbed his forehead. "Olivia, you weren't like this before. Now you're always paranoid, nitpicking every little thing. you're just bored. If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have so much time to let your mind run wild."

My hand paused on the cup.

I couldn't believe what I heard.

I merged my branding studio, which I'd built over six years, into his company, and signed a long-term consulting contract. Even in my third trimester, I was still revising the new season's packaging designs.

Yet James dismissed me as nothing but bored.

Just as I was about to say something, his phone rang.

The caller ID showed it was Celia.

James stared at the screen, hesitated for a second, and then picked up.

"Hello?" he said.

After Celia spoke a few words, James' face changed instantly. "You're having pain? Don't move. I'm coming right now."

I watched him grab his coat and rush to the door, and I laugh out loud.

James froze, like he suddenly realized I was still in the room.

"Celia's not feeling well. I'm going to see how she is. I'll be back soon," he said.

"Sure," I replied.

I surprised myself with how calm I was.

He probably didn't expect me to be so agreeable. He paused for a second. "Olivia, don't overthink it."

I nodded. "I won't. Go take care of her."

James didn't say anything else and hurried out the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the house was suddenly so quiet.

I sat at the dining table, looking at the pile of receipts, and for once, I didn't even feel like crying.

And that made things a lot easier to handle.

*****

Early the next morning, I copied all the transaction records of my bank cards, company emails, and equity documents onto an encrypted hard drive.

Then I sent a message to someone I hadn't spoken to in ages.

[Mr. Sterling, are you free? I want to consult about divorce,] I wrote.

He replied almost instantly. [Three o'clock this afternoon. My office.]

Alex Sterling was my senior in college. After graduation, he joined a top-tier law firm and later cofounded a firm.

We really got to know each other three years ago, when I licensed a set of baby and maternity brand trademarks I'd registered to James's company. Alex was the one who helped me draft the agreement.