Chapter 3
I stared at Ethan’s phone.
The contraction passed.
The pain did not.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan quickly turned the screen over.
“Nothing.”
I almost laughed.
“Nothing?”
“Emily, you’re in labor.”
“And apparently my entire marriage is a lie.”
“We can deal with this later.”
“No.”
Another contraction tightened around my body.
I grabbed the counter and breathed.
Ethan reached toward me.
I slapped his hand away again.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Emily, please.”
“Read the message.”
“What?”
“Read it.”
“This is not the time.”
“Then tell me what she means.”
He looked toward the front door as if Rachel might magically return and save him.
She did not.
“What does she mean when she says the baby isn’t the only reason you married me?”
Ethan’s shoulders dropped.
“It’s complicated.”
I screamed.
Not from the contraction.
From rage.
“Stop saying that!”
He flinched.
Then headlights swept across the living room windows.
My sister had arrived.
Jessica came through the front door seconds later.
She took one look at me and rushed forward.
“What happened?”
“My water broke.”
Her face changed instantly.
“How far apart are contractions?”
“I don’t know.”
“Get your bag.”
She looked at Ethan.
He did not move.
“Ethan!”
He snapped out of it and ran upstairs.
Jessica turned toward me.
“What happened before this?”
I stared at her.
Everything suddenly felt impossible to explain.
“I found him with another woman.”
Jessica froze.
“What?”
“His ex-fiancée.”
“What?”
“She has a key.”
Jessica’s eyes moved toward the kitchen counter.
“She says she owns part of the house.”
“What?”
“She says he asked her to take him back after I got pregnant.”
Jessica’s expression turned murderous.
“Where is he?”
“Upstairs.”
She started toward the stairs.
I grabbed her wrist.
“Hospital first.”
She breathed hard.
“Right.”
Ethan came down carrying my bag.
Jessica snatched it from him.
“You’re not driving.”
“I’m going with her.”
“No.”
His eyes widened.
“That’s my wife.”
Jessica stared at him.
“You should have remembered that before putting your arm around another woman.”
His face changed.
“She told you?”
“I told her.”
Jessica looked at me.
“You want him there?”
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to punish him.
I wanted him to feel one percent of what I felt.
Then another contraction hit, and fear replaced everything.
Our daughter was early.
My doctor had already been concerned about her size.
And no matter what Ethan had done to me, he was still her father.
“For the hospital.”
Jessica understood.
“Fine.”
The ride was unbearable.
Jessica drove.
I sat in the passenger seat.
Ethan sat in back.
Nobody spoke.
Every few minutes, pain tore through me.
Each time, Ethan leaned forward.
Each time, I told him not to touch me.
When we reached the hospital, the nurses moved quickly.
I was taken to labor and delivery.
My doctor appeared within twenty minutes.
She checked the monitor.
Then she looked at me.
“The baby’s heart rate is stable.”
I almost cried with relief.
“She’s okay?”
“For now.”
“For now?”
“You’re thirty-four weeks and five days.”
“I know.”
“We’re going to try slowing labor if possible, but given that your water has broken, delivery may happen.”
Ethan stood near the wall.
“Is she in danger?”
The doctor looked at him.
“There are risks with premature delivery, but you’re in the right place.”
I closed my eyes.
This was supposed to happen differently.
Ethan was supposed to hold my hand.
He was supposed to tell me we could do this.
I was supposed to look at him and feel safe.
Instead, I could barely stand hearing him breathe.
Jessica sat beside me.
“I’m staying.”
I squeezed her hand.
“Please.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“I’m staying too.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
His face fell.
“Emily.”
“I don’t want you in the room.”
“That’s my daughter.”
“And this is my labor.”
He stared at me.
Jessica crossed her arms.
“She said no.”
Ethan looked like he had been slapped.
“You’re really keeping me from seeing my daughter born?”
Tears filled my eyes.
“You really held another woman in our living room while I was at the doctor learning our daughter was measuring small.”
He looked down.
“That’s not fair.”
Jessica laughed.
“Oh, you picked the wrong sentence.”
“Stay out of this.”
“She is my sister.”
“This is between my wife and me.”
I sat straighter.
“I’m not sure what is between us anymore.”
The nurse entered.
“Everything okay?”
“No,” Jessica said.
“Yes,” Ethan said.
I looked at the nurse.
“I don’t want him in the room.”
The nurse nodded immediately.
“Okay.”
Ethan’s face changed.
“Wait.”
The nurse stepped between us.
“Sir, she has requested privacy.”
“I’m her husband.”
“And she is the patient.”
That ended it.
Ethan looked at me one last time.
“I love you.”
I turned away.
He left.
Jessica sat beside me.
For the next several hours, doctors tried slowing labor.
It worked temporarily.
My contractions became less frequent.
I was given medication to help the baby’s lungs.
The panic eased enough for anger to return.
Jessica waited until the nurse left.
“Tell me everything.”
So I did.
Rachel.
The key.
The house.
The business.
The engagement.
The message.
Jessica listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she looked sick.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“You need a lawyer.”
I almost laughed.
“I’m in labor.”
“I know.”
“You think I should call a divorce attorney between contractions?”
“I think you need to protect yourself.”
Her tone made me look at her.
“What aren’t you saying?”
She hesitated.
“My friend Caroline went through something similar.”
“Cheating?”
“Financial lies.”
I waited.
“She learned her husband had moved assets before asking for divorce.”
My chest tightened.
“You think Ethan is doing that?”
“I think a man who lies about where hundreds of thousands of dollars came from can lie about anything.”
I stared at the ceiling.
“I don’t even know what we own anymore.”
“That’s exactly why you need help.”
My phone buzzed.
A message from Ethan.
Please let me explain everything.
I ignored it.
Another arrived.
Rachel lied about part of it.
Another.
I never planned to leave you.
I turned my phone facedown.
Jessica sighed.
“Do you want me to block him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I want everything in writing.”
She looked impressed.
“Good.”
I did not feel good.
I felt destroyed.
A few minutes later, another message arrived.
This one was from an unknown number.
Emily, this is Rachel. Ethan doesn’t know I’m texting you.
I stared at it.
Jessica leaned closer.
“What does she want?”
I opened the message.
You deserve the documents he never showed you.
My heart began racing.
I typed back.
What documents?
The reply came immediately.
The agreement he signed before your wedding.
I swallowed.
What agreement?
Rachel responded.
The one promising me repayment if he married someone else before paying back my investment.
I stared at the screen.
Jessica read over my shoulder.
“What the hell?”
Another message arrived.
He still owes me $310,000.
I typed.
Why would that make him marry me?
Rachel took longer this time.
Because the agreement had a deadline.
My hands began shaking.
What deadline?
His thirty-fifth birthday.
I looked at Jessica.
Ethan turned thirty-five six weeks after our wedding.
I typed again.
Why does that matter?
Rachel replied.
Because his grandfather’s trust paid him $1.2 million when he turned 35, but only if he was married.
The room seemed to disappear.
I read the message twice.
Then a third time.
Jessica whispered, “He married you for money?”
I could not answer.
Rachel sent another message.
I didn’t know about you until after he proposed.
Another.
When I confronted him, he promised he loved you.
Another.
But he also told me marrying you would solve everything.
My eyes filled with tears.
I remembered Ethan proposing at the lake.
His hands shaking.
The ring.
His speech.
“You are the person I’ve been waiting for.”
Had he been waiting for me?
Or a deadline?
My phone rang.
Rachel.
Jessica looked at me.
“Don’t answer if you don’t want to.”
I answered.
“Hello?”
Rachel’s voice was quiet.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Tell me the truth.”
There was a pause.
“I’ll tell you whatever I know.”
“Did he marry me for the trust?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said—”
“I said the marriage helped him qualify.”
“That isn’t my question.”
Rachel sighed.
“Ethan told me he loved you.”
“When?”
“Before your wedding.”
“Why were you still involved?”
“Because he owed me money.”
“Were you sleeping together?”
Silence.
I closed my eyes.
Jessica saw my expression.
She grabbed my hand.
“Rachel.”
Her voice broke.
“Once.”
My breath stopped.
“When?”
“Emily—”
“When?”
“Two months before your wedding.”
I covered my mouth.
Jessica whispered a curse.
Rachel continued quickly.
“He stopped it.”
“Oh, how noble.”
“I’m not defending myself.”
“You came into my home today.”
“Because Ethan called me.”
“And put his arm around you.”
“I was crying.”
“Why?”
Another pause.
“Because he asked me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A release.”
“From the debt?”
“From everything.”
I frowned.
“What does everything mean?”
“The house. The business. The old agreements.”
“Why today?”
“Because he wants to refinance the house.”
I sat straighter.
“He told me we were refinancing to lower the interest rate.”
“He didn’t tell you why?”
“No.”
Rachel went silent.
“Why?”
“Because he needs cash.”
“For what?”
“To pay me.”
My chest tightened.
“How much?”
“All of it.”
“Three hundred and ten thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Where would that money come from?”
“The house.”
I looked at Jessica.
My sister’s face went cold.
Rachel continued.
“He planned to take out enough equity to pay me and clear some business debt.”
“Our house has maybe four hundred thousand in equity.”
“I know.”
“He was going to take almost all of it?”
“I think so.”
“Without telling me?”
“I thought you knew.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Apparently everyone thought I knew everything.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why did you call the house ours?”
Rachel sighed.
“Because technically my original investment agreement gave me a lien against the property.”
My heart stopped.
“A lien?”
“If Ethan defaulted.”
“Has he?”
“Yes.”
I gripped the phone.
“So you could take my house?”
“I don’t want your house.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“If the court enforced everything exactly as written, I could potentially force repayment from Ethan’s share.”
“His share?”
“Yes.”
“My father put thirty thousand dollars into this house.”
“I know.”
That caught me.
“How do you know?”
“Ethan told me.”
Of course he did.
“What else did he tell you about me?”
Rachel went quiet.
“Rachel.”
“He told me you would never leave him.”
The words hurt more than I expected.
“Why?”
“Because of the baby.”
My stomach tightened.
A contraction rolled through me.
Jessica immediately stood.
“Emily?”
I breathed.
“Wait.”
The contraction grew stronger.
I dropped the phone.
Jessica called the nurse.
Within seconds, the room filled again.
My doctor checked me.
Then looked toward the monitor.
“Labor is progressing.”
My heart jumped.
“Now?”
“It may be soon.”
Jessica squeezed my hand.
The doctor continued.
“We’re moving you to delivery.”
Everything happened quickly.
The bed rolled.
Lights passed above me.
I was terrified.
Angry.
Heartbroken.
But underneath all of it was one thought.
My daughter.
Nothing else mattered for the next few hours.
Not Ethan.
Not Rachel.
Not the house.
Not money.
Just her.
My labor moved faster than anyone expected.
Three hours later, I heard the sound that changed everything.
A tiny cry.
Weak.
But real.
“She’s here,” the doctor said.
I started sobbing.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s small, but she’s breathing.”
They held her near me for only seconds before taking her to the neonatal team.
I saw a tiny face.
Dark hair.
Closed eyes.
My daughter.
“Sophie.”
Jessica cried beside me.
“She’s beautiful.”
I kept repeating her name.
“Sophie.”
My little girl.
My reason to survive whatever came next.
Ethan waited outside the entire time.
After delivery, the nurse asked if I wanted him to come in.
I hesitated.
Then I said yes.
He entered slowly.
His eyes were red.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s in the NICU.”
He covered his mouth.
“Can I see her?”
“Later.”
He looked at me.
“I’m sorry I missed it.”
I did not answer.
He moved closer.
“Emily, I need you to know—”
“No.”
He stopped.
“I’m tired.”
“I understand.”
“No, Ethan. I’m tired of lies.”
His eyes filled.
“I want the truth.”
“You’ll get it.”
“All of it.”
“Yes.”
“Starting with the trust.”
He froze.
That told me Rachel had told the truth.
I continued.
“Then the debt.”
His face changed again.
“And the lien on our house.”
“Emily—”
“And why you told Rachel I would never leave you because I was pregnant.”
He stared at me.
“Please let me explain.”
“I will.”
Hope appeared in his eyes.
I destroyed it with my next sentence.
“But not as your wife.”
He went completely still.
“What are you saying?”
I looked at the man I had married.
The father of my premature daughter.
May you like
The stranger I had apparently been sleeping beside for four years.
“I’m saying you should find somewhere else to live.”
