Chapter 2
The next morning, Ethan kissed my cheek and poured me a glass of warm milk.
He acted like he had not signed our separation papers for a laugh the night before.
"I saw the pastry box on the kitchen counter when I got back," Ethan said gently. "You made those pastries for me, didn't you?"
I looked at his soft smile. He thought I had stayed home waiting for him. He had no idea I had carried that box all the way to the VIP room.
"Yes."
Ethan bent down and rested a hand against the slight curve of my stomach.
"Don't make your mom too tired today."
Last night, he had told a room full of people that this baby was the reason I would never leave him.
This morning, he used the same gentle voice that had once made me feel safe.
Then, he straightened and showed me a picture on his phone.
It was the white crib I had sent him weeks ago.
"I cleared Friday evening," he said. "We'll go look at it together. Just the two of us."
Friday, the crib — that was his bet with Dean.
"Are we moving into the new house before it is delivered?"
His smile did not change.
"Not yet. The paint smell still isn't safe for you or the baby. We should give it more time."
The new house had been one of the promises that stopped me from leaving last month.
Now it had become another reason I was expected to wait.
Ethan checked his watch, kissed my forehead, and left for the office.
The moment his car disappeared, I walked into his study and opened his leather briefcase.
The separation agreement was tucked inside the inner pocket.
His bold black signature covered the last page.
He had brought it home as casually as a restaurant receipt.
I photographed every page and called Caroline, the lawyer who had prepared it.
"I want to continue with the separation," I told her.
She asked whether I was safe and whether I had somewhere to stay. Then she arranged a meeting and told me to bring my identification, financial records, and anything connected to the new house.
His signature did not end the marriage by itself.
But I did not need Ethan's permission to begin.
I collected my passport, work files, and prenatal records. When I opened the drawer where I kept my list of baby supplies, I noticed several items were still missing.
Two blankets. A pack of newborn clothes. The small night-light I had chosen for the nursery.
They had been delivered to the new house last month.
Ethan had promised to bring them back. Every time I asked, he told me he had forgotten.
I looked at the silver house key hanging beside the calendar.
If the new house was too unsafe for me to enter, I would only stay long enough to collect the baby's things.
Twenty minutes later, I unlocked the front door.
I expected dust, fresh paint, and empty rooms.
Instead, the hallway smelled like expensive vanilla perfume.
Ethan's indoor shoes were beside the wall.
Next to them sat a pair of pink slippers I had never seen before.
I followed the faint sound of music down the hallway.
Before I reached the master bedroom, the door opened from the inside.
Natalie stepped out wearing silk pajamas.
She looked at the key in my hand, then at my stomach.
She did not look frightened.
She only looked surprised to see me.
"Claire," she said. "Why are you here?"