Chapter 2
I went back to the table and slipped the gift box into my handbag, tucking the loose gold ribbon inside.
I had just zipped it shut when Daniel came back.
“Who was that?” I asked, looking up.
“Someone from work.” He avoided my eyes and picked up his wineglass. “Where were we?”
The doorbell rang.
He immediately set down his glass and went to answer it.
Claire stood on the doorstep holding a box of pastries. She smiled and pulled me into a hug.
“Happy anniversary.” She patted my back. “Daniel said you hadn’t cut the cake yet.”
My shoulders went rigid. I looked at him.
“You invited her?”
“I thought we could talk about the baby together.” He took the box without meeting my eyes.
Apparently, I was the only one who thought tonight was supposed to be about us.
“Seventeen weeks?” I stepped out of her arms, my gaze dropping to her stomach.
Claire glanced at Daniel before giving a small nod.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.” She bit her lip. “I didn’t want to bring up painful memories.”
Daniel took her coat and hung it beside my scarf.
“Come sit down.” He held her elbow. “You shouldn’t be on your feet.”
I stared at his hand, gripping the back of a chair.
“Does the father know?”
“Yes.” Claire lowered her eyes. “But it’s complicated.”
“How complicated?” I watched her face. “Is he married?”
Daniel set a glass of water on the table with a sharp clink.
“Emma, don’t interrogate her.”
She accepted the water without denying it.
I picked up the coffeepot.
“Coffee?”
“She doesn’t drink it at night. She’s been having trouble sleeping.” Daniel reached out to stop me, then added, “She mentioned it.”
I set down the pot and held his gaze.
“You certainly remembered.”
He frowned, but Claire touched his arm before he could answer.
“It’s okay.” She gave him a small shake of her head. “Emma’s just concerned.”
I pulled my handbag closer.
“When’s your next appointment?” I asked her.
“Friday.” She traced the rim of her glass with one finger.
“Thursday. It got moved,” Daniel said immediately.
The room went quiet.
He took his hand off the back of her chair and picked up the pastry box.
“I helped her schedule it.” He turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll get some plates.”
Claire set down her water and walked into the living room. She settled into the light gray rocking chair.
I’d bought it during my first pregnancy.
After we lost the baby, I couldn’t bear to get rid of it.
I couldn’t bear to sit in it, either.
She leaned against the cushion and rocked gently.
“This is so comfortable.” She stroked the armrest. “It’ll be perfect for rocking the baby to sleep.”
I walked over and stopped in front of her.
“Is Daniel the father?”
The chair went still.
She glanced toward the kitchen. A drawer slid open.
“You heard the phone call?” she asked, looking up as her smile faded.
My throat tightened.
She hadn’t even tried to deny it.
“So you expect me to raise your baby for you?”
“These past few years haven’t been easy on him, either.” She lowered her voice, her brows drawing together. “You can’t expect him to spend the rest of his life grieving with you.”
I stared at her, remembering all the nights I’d called her in tears.
I’d told her Daniel was working late again.
She’d told me to be understanding.
Plates clinked in the kitchen.
Claire glanced toward the sound and rested her hand on her stomach.
“He’s not planning to divorce you, Emma.” Her voice softened again. “You’ll still be his wife.”
I said nothing.
She gently rubbed her belly, as though she were doing me a favor.
“The baby can call you Mom, too.”