Chapter 2

Callum came home just after sunrise.

He was still wearing yesterday’s shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He smelled like stale coffee, not another woman’s perfume. Somehow, that didn’t make the night hurt less.

“I slept on her couch,” he said before I could ask. “Nothing happened.”

I set my purse on the kitchen counter. “That isn’t what I’m upset about.”

“The fight triggered her memories of the accident. She couldn’t stop shaking.” He rubbed both hands over his face. “I’m sorry I missed dinner, but I couldn’t leave her like that.”

There it was.

An apology followed by a reason I had no right to be angry.

Callum noticed the blue gift box sticking out of my purse.

“What’s that?”

I had imagined giving it to him across a candlelit table. Instead, I pushed it toward him beneath the harsh kitchen lights.

“This is what I wanted to give you last night.”

He opened the box.

For several seconds, he only stared at the tiny white socks.

Then he looked at me. “Are you pregnant?”

I nodded.

His whole face changed.

Callum crossed the kitchen in two steps and wrapped his arms around me. He laughed against my hair, then dropped to his knees and placed a hand over my still-flat stomach.

“We’re having a baby.”

The happiness in his voice was real. That was what made loving him so difficult.

“I’m going to do this right,” he promised. “I’ll be at every appointment. Every ultrasound. Everything.”

For the next few days, I let myself believe him.

My doctor scheduled an early scan because I had experienced light spotting and a dull ache on my right side. Callum took the morning off work.

We were putting on our coats when his phone rang.

Sloane.

He hesitated before answering. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “My leg has gone numb.”

Callum’s hand tightened around the phone.

“Since when?”

“This morning. But stay with Claire. I can call someone else.” Her voice trembled. “The doctor once said the old damage could get worse. The worst case is that I might not walk normally again, but I’ll manage.”

Callum reached for his keys.

“She can call an ambulance,” I said.

“She doesn’t need an ambulance. I’ll drop her at the hospital and meet you at the clinic.”

“This is our first appointment.”

“I know.”

“You promised.”

His eyes moved toward the small clock above the stove. “It’s a routine appointment, Claire. We’ll have plenty more.”

He kissed my forehead and left before I could answer.

At the clinic, the ultrasound technician grew quiet.

A doctor came in a few minutes later and pulled her stool closer to me.

“We can’t see the pregnancy where we expect to see it,” she said. “It may simply be too early, but we need to check again in forty-eight hours.”

I gripped the paper covering the examination table. “Is the baby all right?”

“I don’t know yet. If you develop severe pain, dizziness or bleeding, don’t wait for your next appointment. Call 911.”

I carried those words home alone.

Callum was sitting at the kitchen table, texting.

“How did it go?” he asked without looking up.

“They couldn’t find the pregnancy where it was supposed to be.”

He finally raised his head. “But they said it could be too early, right?”

“Yes. Or it could be dangerous.”

His phone buzzed.

He read the message immediately.

“Feeling is coming back in Sloane’s foot,” he said, visibly relieved.

I placed my medical instructions in front of him. He didn’t touch them.

“If Sloane and I needed you at the same time, who would you choose?”

Callum frowned. “Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because you keep refusing to answer.”

“That situation is never going to happen.”

He called my question ridiculous.

I folded the emergency instructions and put them in my purse.

In forty-eight hours, his answer would nearly kill me.