Chapter 2

David's breath was warm against my ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, my whole body going rigid.

Another one? My mind went blank with shock. How could he say that so easily? Like it was nothing?

That baby. That tiny life that had been growing inside me for three months. It wasn't some object he could replace. That was my child.

I felt David's hand begin to wander across my stomach, and I shoved him away hard. "Don't touch me."

He stopped cold. "Claire, what's going on?"

"I'm tired," I said, rolling away from him onto my side.

The room went quiet behind me. Then I heard him let out a long breath. "I know you're hurting, but life moves on. You can't keep dwelling on it."

I buried my face in the pillow and let the tears come without a sound.

Dwelling on it? The word tasted like ash in my mouth. So that was what my grief was to him. Something I needed to get over.

*****

The next morning, I woke up early. David had already left for work.

I stepped out of the bedroom and found Linda in the living room, mopping the floor. The wet mop head squeaked against the tile with every push.

She spotted me and paused. "Up already? Why not sleep in? Most people would still be in bed after what you went through."

I didn't answer. I walked straight into the bathroom and shut the door.

In the mirror, a ghost stared back at me. My face was paper white, my eyes swollen and red. I looked half dead.

I turned on the cold water and splashed it onto my cheeks. I needed to wake up. I needed to pull myself together. Falling apart wasn't on the table.

At breakfast, Linda set a plate of cold pickles in front of me. "Eat up. This'll wake up your appetite."

I stared down at the dark, shriveled slices, and my stomach twisted.

The doctor told me to eat light, warm, nutrient foods. I shouldn't eat something cold, raw, or spicy.

"Linda, I can't eat this," I said.

Linda rolled her eyes. "Why not? You used to love these. What, now you're suddenly too delicate for pickles?

"Guess losing one baby makes you think you're made of glass, huh?"

Each word landed like a slap, sharp, deliberate, cruel.

I stood up. "I'm not hungry." I turned toward my room.

Linda's voice chased after me. "Not hungry? What are you holding out for, steak and lobster?

"The Brooks family doesn't have money to burn. We can't afford to wait on some spoiled princess."

I stopped and turned to face her. "That's not what I meant. I want something plain and simple."

"Simple?" Linda tossed the mop against the wall. "So how's my cooking not good enough for you?

"Claire, don't get ahead of yourself. You don't call the shots in this house."

I stared at this woman, so completely unreasonable, and something hot rose up in my chest.

"You weren't like this before," I said. "You used to be kind to me. Why are you treating me this way now?"

Linda let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Before? Before, I thought you'd give us a grandson.

"I rolled out the red carpet for you. But now?"

She looked me up and down, her eyes full of contempt. "A woman who can't keep a baby inside her. What exactly am I supposed to do for you now?"

The blood in my veins went cold. There it was. In her eyes, I was nothing but a machine for making babies.

Deliver a child, and I was an angel. Fail, and I was worthless and disposable.

I stepped back and bumped into a chair. My hand shot out to steady myself.

"That was your grandson, too," I said, my voice trembling. "How can you be so heartless?"

"My grandson?" Linda's laugh turned sharper, meaner. "Who knows whose kid it was? You're always running around town, doing God knows what. Who knows what you've been up to—"

My hand connected with her face before she could finish.

I put everything I had into that slap, and Linda's head snapped sideways.

The living room went dead silent. The air turned heavy and still. Linda clutched her cheek, staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"You hit me?" Her voice shook with rage. "You little bitch. You actually hit me?"

She lunged at me like a wild animal.

I didn't flinch. I didn't move. I stood there and waited for her.

My mind was empty. And somehow, I felt perfectly calm.

Her hand was inches from my face when the front door swung open. David stood in the doorway, taking in the scene.

His expression froze. "What the hell is going on here?"

Linda's face transformed in an instant. She grabbed her cheek and burst into loud, theatrical sobs. "David, thank God you're home!

"If you'd walked in a minute later, Claire would have killed me."

She rushed to him, shoving her reddened face toward him. "Look what she did to me!

"I've been taking care of her day and night, and this is what I get. I can't take this anymore."