Chapter 3

"Nowhere," I said smoothly. "I was just repacking."

Mason studied the suitcase, then looked up at my pale face.

Stepping closer, he gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Is it your stomach again?" he asked, his eyes flooding with genuine, sickening worry. "If you feel sick, we don't have to stay. We can end the trip right now and go home."

He was so gentle. So incredibly considerate.

I looked into his eyes.

For the first time, I truly understood something terrifying.

Love and betrayal can exist in the exact same person, at the exact same time.

He had no idea I had seen the birth certificate. He didn't know I stood outside Olivia’s house.

He looked at me and still saw his safe, predictable wife.

"I'm fine," I murmured softly. "Just organizing my things."

Mason smiled and kissed my forehead. He completely believed me.

My phone vibrated against the desk.

A text from Claire lit up the screen: "The position is still open."

I flipped the screen down.

The real moves would wait until we returned to the city.

That afternoon, Mason had a hotel spa appointment.

I told him I wanted to drive out alone to get some fresh air.

Suddenly, a silver sedan swerved wildly into my lane.

There was a horrible screech of tires.

A loud crash.

Then, everything went black.

When I slowly regained consciousness, I couldn't open my eyes.

My body felt like lead. But I could hear voices.

"When is she going to wake up?"

It was Mason. His voice was frantic, terrified. He was gripping my hand so tightly that my knuckles ached.

"Her vitals are completely stable," a doctor replied calmly. "No severe internal injuries. She just needs a little more observation. She should wake up very soon."

Mason let out a shaky breath.

He kissed the back of my hand.

A second later, his cell phone started ringing.

"Olivia, I can't," he whispered harshly into the receiver. "Ava is in the hospital."

A high-pitched, crying voice drifted through the phone's speaker.

It was Harper.

Tonight was her school's Father-Daughter Dance, an event Mason had promised to attend six months ago.

She was standing at the school entrance in her party dress, refusing to go inside.

Nobody was bleeding. Nobody was in a hospital bed. But Harper was crying.

"Mason, she thinks you abandoned her again," Olivia urged through the phone.

"Daddy, are you coming?" Harper sobbed.

A heavy silence filled the hospital room.

Slowly, the crushing grip on my hand began to loosen.

"The doctors are right outside," Mason muttered, clearly rationalizing the decision aloud. "She's stable. I'll just go for one hour. I'll be back before she even wakes up."

"I'll be back before you wake up," he whispered.

He released my hand completely. Footsteps faded across the linoleum. The heavy door clicked shut.

He left.

A few minutes later, I fluttered my eyes open to an empty room.

A nurse walked in.

"Oh, you're awake," she smiled. "Your husband just stepped out for a bit."

The doctor came in next. His face was serious.

"Ava, the accident caused some early pregnancy bleeding," he said. "The baby's condition was unstable for a moment. But you are both safe now. We saved the baby."

I placed my hand on my flat stomach.

My baby almost died.

And his father left to go to a school dance.

Then, my phone screen lit up on the bedside tray. A new text from Mason.

"Harper needed me for an hour. You're stable and the doctors are with you. I'll be back soon."

I stared at the screen.

You're stable.

Suddenly, the entire logic of our eight-year marriage made perfect sense.

Because I was stable, everyone else could always come first.

Because I wouldn't make a scene, I could always wait.

Mason thought I would just cry when he got back.

He thought I would argue, and then I would forgive him.

He had no idea that the woman he left in this hospital bed was already dead.

Without shedding a single tear, I unlocked my phone and replied to Claire: "I'll take the job."

Pressing the call button, I demanded my medical records.

I signed my own discharge paperwork against medical advice and ensured the hospital destroyed any printed copies of my ultrasound.

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a taxi, speeding away from the hospital.

I was taking his second child away, and he wouldn't even know it existed.

Suddenly, my phone began to ring. Mason's name flashed across the screen.

"Ava, don't hang up," his voice came through the speaker. It was rushed. Frantic.

He paused for exactly one second.

"Did you see Harper's birth certificate?" he asked.

I sat in the dark backseat.

I listened to his terrified breathing.