Birth Night Betrayal

At two in the morning, my water broke, and I was staring blankly at Ethan's latest Snapchat message.

"Vanessa's bathroom pipe burst, and her kid was so scared he got a fever. I'm going to help out. Won't be back tonight."

Immediately after, an Instagram notification popped up, a red dot. From Vanessa.

The photo showed a man's hand holding a wrench, fixing a pipe, sleeves rolled up, revealing a long, firm forearm. The watch I'd scrimped and saved to buy him gleamed under the light, a painful stab in my eyes.