Chapter 2

The cab pulled up outside my building, and the driver had to call back to me twice before I came out of it. I paid through the app, pushed the door open, and walked into the lobby.

Inside the apartment, I left the lights off and sat down on the living room couch.

A thin band of streetlight came through the gap in the curtains and landed on our wedding portrait.

In the photo, Edward stood at my shoulder with his head tipped toward me, looking at me like there was nothing else in the room.

That crooked half smile of his used to be my favorite thing in the world.

Back when we were dating, he swore wedding photos were a waste of a whole day, and we should skip straight to the courthouse.

Then the day came, and nobody was more excited than he was.

The stylist fixed his collar while his eyes stayed on me the whole time.

I stared at the photo until my eyes burned, and the wedding night came back whether I wanted it or not.

I had been too wrung out to move, sprawled across the mattress, when Edward pushed himself up onto one elbow and stared down at the sheets without saying a word.

It struck me as strange, so I leaned over to see what he was looking at.

He turned to me with his brows drawn together, and his voice came out hesitant.

"How come there's no blood?"

I laughed, hooked an arm around his neck, pulled myself up, and kissed the corner of his mouth to needle him.

"And you always say I'm childish for binge-watching dramas on the couch all day."

I explained that plenty of women don't bleed their first time, that sports or plain anatomy can account for it, that none of it means anything, and that thirty seconds online would have told him the same.

I expected him to shrug it off the way I had. Instead, he said nothing for a long stretch, muttered that he was tired, and lay down with his back to me.

I chalked it up to a long wedding day and never gave it another thought.

He had stopped believing me that night, and I had missed it completely.

A key turned in the front door.

Edward was home.

He pushed the door open, saw me sitting there in the dark, and stopped short.

The entry light caught his face and showed me how tired he was, along with something underneath it that I couldn't name.

A few seconds later, he was the one who looked away.

The ache in my chest turned sharp.

There was a time when I could turn around anywhere, doing anything, and find him already watching me like he wanted to fold me into his ribs and keep me there.

Now looking at me at all seemed like more effort than he could spare.

Edward took off his shoes, dropped his coat over a chair, and headed for the living room without a word. His step hitched as he passed me. He didn't stop.

The silence spread through the apartment until it sat on my chest.

I expected him to walk straight into the bedroom. Instead, he spoke, and I couldn't read a thing in his voice.

"I'm taking you to the hospital tomorrow. Full prenatal workup."

My stomach dropped, and Melissa's voice came back at full volume.

I lifted my head, and what came out was dry and thin and closer to begging than I meant it to be.

"Can we not go?"

He turned back with a frown, and the patience was already gone from his voice.

"You were on me every day about coming to your appointments. I finally offer, and now you don't want to go?"

He kept going before I could answer.

"Oh, and it's Melissa's birthday. She wants to have it here. She likes your cooking, so start getting things ready."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I looked at him, completely in disbelief.

"Edward, I'm pregnant."

The morning sickness hadn't let go of me yet. The smell of grease alone sent me to the sink, and standing too long left me dizzy.

He wanted me on my feet all evening, cooking a birthday dinner for the girl he grew up with.

Edward's eyes slid off mine like I had put a finger on something he didn't want touched.

Then something else surfaced. His gaze dropped to my stomach, and the disgust came right back into it.

He didn't say another word, just turned and walked out.