When I asked about her, Daniel laughed.
“She handles finance.”
“At midnight?”
“Some people work late, Rebecca.”
I let it go.
Not because I believed him.
Because I was exhausted.
Then came the Thursday night that ended our marriage.
I was standing in the kitchen when the contraction hit.
This wasn’t Braxton Hicks.
This one bent me over the counter.
“Daniel.”
He was sitting in the living room typing on his laptop.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“I need you.”
He walked into the kitchen looking irritated.
“I think the baby is coming.”
He stared at me.
“You’re not due for another three weeks.”
