Chapter 1

On Christmas Eve, I learned my husband’s family was flying to Hawaii the next morning.

His childhood sweetheart had already been given the ocean suite.

I hadn’t even known there was a trip.

"Celeste should take the ocean suite," my sister-in-law, Paige, said. "You just finalized your divorce. Waking up to the ocean on Christmas will be good for you."

Celeste gave a small smile. She had grown up with Evan. She had been at his birthdays, his graduations, and almost every family holiday before I ever met him.

I looked from Paige to my mother-in-law’s phone.

They were discussing rooms—Rooms that had already been booked.

Their flight left tomorrow morning.

For a moment, I wondered whether Evan had simply forgotten to mention it.

I waited for someone to mention my room.

Paige’s family had two rooms. My mother-in-law, Meredith, had one. Celeste had the ocean suite.

No one said my name.

My hand settled over the slight curve of my stomach. I was fourteen weeks pregnant after two failed embryo transfers.

"What room are Evan and I in?" I asked.

The table went quiet. Even Paige’s children stopped fighting over the last roll.

Evan folded the corner of his napkin beneath his thumb.

"Natalie, you’re not coming."

For a second, I thought I had misheard him.

"What?"

"It’s a long flight. You’ve been tired. I don’t want you taking unnecessary risks." His voice was soft enough to sound caring. "I’m protecting you and the baby."

I stared at the man who had spent the last month telling me every decision we made now had to be for our child.

We had to be careful because of the baby.

We should save money because of the baby.

We should wait before buying the crib mattress because of the baby.

Apparently the baby also meant I should spend Christmas alone.

"Then stay home with me."

That stopped him.

Paige looked down at her plate. Meredith reached for her water. Even Celeste’s smile disappeared.

I kept my eyes on Evan.

"If the flight is dangerous for me and our baby, don’t go."

His gaze moved toward Celeste for less than a second.

It was long enough.

"Natalie." His jaw tightened. "Celeste just went through a divorce. She shouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone."

There it was.

Our baby was important enough to keep me home.

Celeste was important enough to make him leave.

"I said I didn’t want to host Christmas dinner for twenty people," I said. "I never said I wanted to spend Christmas alone."

Paige sighed as if I were making the evening difficult.

"We’re all trying to help you," she said. "A pregnant woman should rest."

Then she brightened, as if she had remembered something reassuring.

"But we didn’t forget you."

She pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and slid it across the table.

"You can help from home."

I unfolded it.

Pick up Meredith’s medication.

Meet the heating technician.

Stock the refrigerator before everyone returns.

Then I reached the last line.

Clear the nursery for Celeste.

"The nursery?"

Paige nodded. "Her apartment won’t be ready when we get back. It’s only five nights."

Celeste shifted in her chair. "I can get a hotel."

Evan answered before I could.

"Don’t be ridiculous. The nursery is empty."

My fingers tightened around the paper.

The room was not empty.

The boxed crib my father had helped me choose was against one wall. Paint samples were taped beside the window. The ultrasound photograph Evan had kissed after our twelve-week appointment was clipped to the shelf.

He knew that.

He just meant no one important was sleeping there yet.

"No." I put the list back on the table. "I will not do a single thing on this list."

The atmosphere at the table shifted. People shifted in their seats.

For seven years, I had changed plans when Evan’s family needed something. I had covered dinners, airport pickups, forgotten birthdays, and emergencies that somehow became mine to fix.

No one at the table knew what to do with a clear no.

Evan gave a tired breath.

"Don’t throw a tantrum, Natalie. You’re upset. We’ll talk when you calm down."

He reached across the table, took the list, folded it neatly, and put it in his pocket.

He did not tear it up.

He was saving it for later.

Waiting for me to become myself again.

The quiet wife who always said yes. That night, while Evan showered, I opened the bottom drawer of our desk.

I took out my passport.

My birth certificate.

My medical folder.

Our marriage certificate.

I placed all four in my work bag and zipped it shut.

Then I texted Tessa.

[Can I leave a box at your house tomorrow?]

Her answer came almost immediately.

[Of course.]

I slid my phone into the bag with the documents.

Down the hall, the shower turned off.

For the first time in seven years, I had something packed before Evan did.