Chapter 2

James was always so considerate and gentle. Whenever he was home, he'd take care of everything for me.

He could untangle my messy feelings faster than I could, sensing what I needed before I even knew myself. Tonight was no different.

Once my slippers were on, he guided me to the couch, settled me down, and draped a blanket over my legs. Then, in that soft voice of his, he said, "You're scared you won't be a good mom again, aren't you?

"I'm here for you. You know how algorithms work. They feed you whatever you're anxious about. The more you worry, the more it shows up.

"All you need to do right now is take care of yourself. Once you're past three months, marry me, okay?"

Ever since I got pregnant, I'd been terrified of marriage and motherhood.

I couldn't help it. My parents divorced when I was five because my dad cheated.

After that, I lived with my mom.

For the next twenty-something years, whenever I didn't do what she wanted, she'd remind me how she almost died giving birth to me.

She told me how much blood she lost, how the doctor's hands shook as he had to pull the placenta out by force because it wouldn't come on its own.

She even told me it was my fault Dad cheated on her.

Because she was pregnant with me, she couldn't meet his needs, so he found someone who could.

That was why he picked the other woman instead of her.

Because of all that, I'd held onto James for seven years.

We'd lived together for four. He'd proposed dozens of times, and I'd always said no.

It wasn't until I got pregnant by accident that things shifted. James broke down crying, begging me to keep the baby.

He promised, through tears, that I'd never end up like my mom.

That was when I finally made up my mind to have the baby and to marry James.

But when I'd started to believe him, when I was finally ready to embrace motherhood and marriage, he went and cheated.

Tears spilled down my cheeks, soaking his shirt and dampening the blanket over my lap.

When James saw me crying, he panicked.

He grabbed a tissue and gently wiped my face. "Shh, don't cry, babe. Come here, let me hold you."

He pulled me into his arms and held me tight.

But his warmth only made the ache in my chest worse.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I lifted my head, burning to confront him about that girl.

But as I looked up, I caught a half-hidden hickey peeking out from his slightly open collar.

A wave of nausea crashed over me so fast it swallowed every word I'd been about to say.

On instinct, I shoved him away and ran for the bathroom, collapsing over the toilet as I started retching uncontrollably.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

The last few weeks, James had been acting strangely. Ever since the doctor told us we couldn't have sex during the first trimester, James started coming to bed late after I was already asleep.

Before, I thought he was trying to control himself.

Now I understood. He was afraid I'd see the marks that girl left on him.

The pain in my chest twisted even deeper.

James pounded on the bathroom door, his voice thick with worry. "Eva? You okay in there? Are you throwing up again?"

Before I could answer, his phone started ringing.

I barely had time to catch my breath before I heard him pick up. "What? They need me at the office now?

"Look, I can't deal with this right now. My wife's pregnant, and she's dealing with sickness.

"The client specifically asked for me? And if I don't show tonight, they're finding another lawyer?

"Fine. I'm on my way."

He hung up and knocked on the door again. "Eva, open up. Let me see you're okay.

"I'm not grossed out or anything. I need to make sure you're alright."

My chest ached so badly, and after heaving like that, my body had gone completely limp against the cold bathroom floor.

But I couldn't face him right now.