Chapter 2
For one second, nobody moved.
Then another cramp tore through me.
I screamed and grabbed the edge of the table.
Michael dropped the phone onto the counter and rushed toward me.
“Ryan, call 911.”
Ryan stared at him.
“What?”
“Call an ambulance!”
Diane suddenly stepped backward.
“She doesn’t need an ambulance.”
Michael looked at his wife with an expression I had never seen before.
“Get away from her.”
Diane opened her mouth.
“Michael—”
“I said get away from her.”
Ryan finally pulled out his phone.
His hands were shaking.
I heard him tell the dispatcher that I was eight months pregnant, bleeding, and having severe abdominal pain.
He never said his mother had kicked me.
I noticed that.
Even through the pain, I noticed.
Michael knelt beside me.
“Stay with me, Claire.”
My name sounded strange in his voice.
He had always been quiet around Diane.
Too quiet.
Now his face was hard.
Terrified.
And furious.
Another wave of pain came.
I grabbed his sleeve.
“My baby.”
“We’re getting you help.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“She has to be.”
Diane let out an angry breath.
“This is ridiculous. I barely touched her.”
Michael slowly looked over his shoulder.
“You kicked a pregnant woman.”
“She insulted me.”
“She asked you to move.”
“She has been turning Ryan against me for years.”
I almost laughed.
Ryan against her?
Ryan had spent our entire marriage defending her.
Every holiday.
Every insult.
Every time she entered our home without knocking.
Every time she criticized my cooking.
My clothes.
My job.
My family.
Even the name we had chosen for our daughter.
Ryan always said the same thing.
That was just how his mother was.
I needed to be patient.
I needed to be mature.
I needed to stop taking everything personally.
But now I was lying on the floor with blood running down my leg.
And he still had not confronted her.
The ambulance sirens grew louder.
Diane looked toward the front window.
“We need to think before those people come inside.”
Michael stood.
“What exactly do we need to think about?”
Diane’s eyes flicked toward Ryan.
That look was quick.
But I saw it.
So did Michael.
Ryan’s face tightened.
“Dad, this isn’t helping.”
Michael stared at him.
“You’re worried about helping?”
“Claire needs a hospital.”
“Yes. Because your mother assaulted her.”
Ryan lowered his voice.
“Can we not use that word?”
I felt colder than I had ever felt in my life.
Not because of the pain.
Because of him.
“Assaulted.”
My voice came out weak.
Everyone looked down at me.
I forced myself to meet Ryan’s eyes.
“Your mother assaulted me.”
“Claire—”
“She kicked me.”
“I know.”
“And you asked why I provoked her.”
His face crumpled.
“I was scared.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You were protecting her.”
The front door opened.
Paramedics rushed inside.
Everything became noise.
Questions.
Equipment.
Hands lifting me onto a stretcher.
One of the paramedics saw the blood and immediately began asking about contractions.
“How long ago did the injury happen?”
I swallowed.
“Minutes.”
“What kind of injury?”
Ryan answered first.
“She fell.”
Michael spun toward him.
“No, she did not.”
The room went silent.
Even the paramedic stopped moving.
Michael pointed at Diane.
“She was kicked in the abdomen.”
The paramedic’s expression changed immediately.
“By who?”
Diane took one step toward the hallway.
Michael pointed again.
“My wife.”
“Michael!”
“Tell them the truth.”
Diane looked at Ryan.
Ryan said nothing.
That hurt almost as much as the kick.
The paramedics wheeled me out.
As we passed through the doorway, I heard Michael say something behind us.
“Ryan, you’re riding with her.”
Then Diane snapped, “He is staying here.”
I turned my head.
Ryan stood between his father and mother.
I waited.
It should not have been a decision.
His pregnant wife was bleeding.
Our unborn daughter might be dying.
His mother had caused it.
Still, Ryan hesitated.
Michael looked at him in disbelief.
“Go.”
Ryan finally ran after the stretcher.
But I already had my answer.
At the hospital, everything moved fast.
A nurse rushed me into labor and delivery.
Monitors were attached.
My doctor appeared.
Then another doctor.
Then two nurses.
Ryan stood near the wall.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
My doctor looked at the monitor.
“The baby’s heart rate is unstable.”
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“We’re seeing signs that the placenta may have partially separated.”
Ryan took a step forward.
“Can you fix it?”
“We are assessing that now.”
Another contraction crushed through me.
I screamed.
Ryan tried to grab my hand.
I pulled away.
He froze.
“Claire.”
“Don’t.”
His face fell.
“Please.”
I looked at the monitor.
Not at him.
A nurse whispered something to my doctor.
My doctor turned toward us.
“We need to prepare for an emergency delivery.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
“It may be the safest option.”
“But she’s early.”
“She is, but right now our priority is keeping both of you safe.”
Ryan moved closer.
“What kind of delivery?”
“We may need a C-section.”
He went pale.
I closed my eyes.
All I could see was Diane lifting her foot.
All I could hear was Ryan whispering beside me.
Why do you always provoke her?
The door opened.
Michael rushed inside.
A nurse tried to stop him.
“He’s family,” Ryan said.
Michael looked at me.
“Are you okay?”
“They’re delivering the baby.”
His face drained.
Then he looked at Ryan.
“Where is your mother?”
Ryan blinked.
“What?”
“Where is she?”
“I thought she was with you.”
“She left.”
Ryan stared.
“What do you mean, she left?”
“She walked out before the police arrived.”
My eyes opened.
“The police?”
Michael nodded.
“I called them.”
Ryan looked furious.
“You called the police on Mom?”
Michael laughed once.
It had no humor in it.
“She kicked your wife in the stomach while she was eight months pregnant.”
“She panicked.”
“Your wife might lose the baby.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Then stop protecting the person who caused this.”
Ryan looked at me.
I saw something in his face.
Fear.
Guilt.
And something else.
Something I could not identify.
Then Michael pulled his phone from his pocket.
“The camera recorded more than the attack.”
Ryan went completely still.
I noticed.
So did Michael.
“What did it record?” I whispered.
Michael stared at his son.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether Ryan wants to tell you himself.”
My stomach turned.
Ryan shook his head.
“Dad, not now.”
Michael’s jaw tightened.
“Then when?”
“She’s going into surgery.”
“Exactly.”
Ryan lowered his voice.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand what I heard.”
I looked between them.
“What did you hear?”
Nobody answered.
“Ryan.”
He stared at the floor.
I felt fear building beneath the physical pain.
“What did you and your mother plan?”
His head snapped up.
“We didn’t plan for this.”
The room became silent.
Michael closed his eyes.
I whispered, “For this?”
Ryan realized what he had said.
“Claire, that isn’t what I meant.”
“What did you plan?”
A nurse entered.
“We need to move now.”
The bed began rolling toward the operating room.
I reached out and grabbed Michael’s wrist.
“Tell me.”
His eyes filled with pain.
“Claire…”
“Please.”
He leaned closer.
“Diane wanted Ryan to make you angry tonight.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why?”
“She wanted you to leave.”
“I tried to leave.”
“I know.”
“No. Leave what?”
Michael looked toward Ryan.
Then back at me.
“Your marriage.”
The nurses pushed my bed through the doors.
May you like
But Michael’s next words followed me down the hall.
“She wanted Ryan to take the baby after you gave birth.”
