My Husband Brought Me Her Leftover Coffee for 70 Days

Synopsis

For the first ten weeks of my pregnancy, my husband brought home a latte every night. "Less ice," my husband said, kissing my forehead. "Better for the baby." Until one Thursday, when I turned the seventieth cup in my hand. The label said: Regular Ice. But there wasn't a single cube left in the cup. If it had been made with regular ice, why had Evan told me it was light? And why had he bought it early enough for every cube to melt before he came home? For the first time, I wondered if Evan had lied to me.