Chapter 4

At 8:23 that night, Daniel finally texted me.

"The investor added more items to the agenda. Go home. I'll make it up to you another day. Don't be angry, okay?"

I sat in my car and laughed at the message.

Ten minutes earlier, I had watched him hold Lauren beneath the school's holiday lights while people congratulated them.

For me, there was always another day.

For Lauren and Mia, he had promised next Thanksgiving.

I did not reply. I drove home.

Catherine had already emailed the divorce petition and authorization to preserve our marital assets. I printed every page and signed wherever my name was required.

At the same time, Maya sent my official offer letter and the address of the company apartment in New York.

Six years earlier, I had left the consulting firm I built for Daniel.

He often said I had been out of the workforce too long and could no longer do anything except organize his books.

But after one phone call, Maya gave me my old place back.

The person who truly wanted me to have a way out had never been my husband.

I packed one suitcase. It held my identification, medication, laptop, old project files, and a few pieces of clothing that belonged to me.

I left behind every piece of jewelry Daniel had bought me, every dress, and every credit card.

I would not give him the chance to claim that his money had kept me alive.

Before I left, I placed the dark green perfume box in the center of the dining table.

Beside it, I arranged the card Daniel had written to Lauren, the bank statements showing $48,000 in tuition payments, and three screenshots from the school.

In the first, Mia was throwing herself into his arms and calling him Daddy.

In the second, Lauren was kissing him.

In the third, the three of them stood beneath the holiday lights like a family portrait rehearsed long before I ever saw it.

At the bottom of the stack were the signed divorce papers. My wedding ring rested on Daniel's signature line.

Last, I took out the cream-colored envelope.

Inside was the ultrasound and the card I had written the night before Thanksgiving.

Next Thanksgiving, there will be one more person at our table.

I turned the card over and added one final sentence.

"You already chose your table for next year. My baby and I will not intrude."

At ten that night, I rolled my suitcase out the door. The last train to New York left in forty minutes.

By the time the train passed the second station, Daniel called for the first time.

I did not answer.

After the second and third calls, he left a voicemail.

"Nora, where are you? Call me the second you get this."

I did not respond.

A few minutes later, his fourth call came through. This time, it rang only twice before going silent.

A new voicemail transcript appeared on my screen.

"Nora, I found the ultrasound."

There was nothing after that.

I stared at the words and rested my palm over my stomach.

I had waited four years. I had planned to tell him myself that we were finally having a baby.

But by the time Daniel learned the truth, I was already on a train taking me away from him.