Chapter 2

After Ethan left, I stared at the cake for a long time.

Then I started packing.

ID card, prenatal checkup report, my mother's photo.

I shoved them into my bag, my hands shaking so badly it took three tries to zip it closed.

Ethan came back faster than I expected.

He looked at the bag in my hand and sneered: "Running away? Where would you even go?"

"Divorce." I used all my strength to say that word.

He didn't answer, just walked over and pulled the bag from my hands. When he found the prenatal report, his hand paused for a moment.

Very brief, so brief it seemed like I'd imagined it.

Then he threw the bag on the floor.

"Divorce?" He looked down at me like he'd heard a joke.

"Claire, if you'd chosen me first, I probably would have treasured you for life."

His tone was flat, like he was talking about someone else.

"But who did you choose? You chose Lucas."

"When you were with him, you could kneel in the rain all night. You could fight and make up laughing the next day."

"What about with me?"

"You speak quietly, walk around me carefully, don't even dare make prenatal supplements in front of me."

"Claire, who are you living with? You're living with a stranger."

"You think that's love?"

Ethan lowered his head, almost touching my face: "That's charity."

"Was saving me charity too?" I raised my head.

"Five years ago you grabbed me on that rooftop and said you'd be good to me forever. Was that pity too?"

His expression flickered, then hardened.

"Yes. That was pity."

He stepped back, his eyes full of gloom.

"The pot you used to make prenatal supplements -- it's the same one you used to make soup for Lucas. You forgot, didn't you? Natalie remembers."

That was the only thing my mother left behind.

When I moved, I only brought that pot.

I used it for Lucas because it was all I had. I used it for Ethan for the same reason.

"It's not the same... that was my mom's..."

"Enough." Ethan pulled open the front door.

Outside, a storm was starting.

He grabbed my arm and pushed me out. As I passed the shoe cabinet, my shin hit the corner and I bent over in pain.

"Ethan, I'm pregnant."

The moment those words left my mouth, his hand did pause for a moment.

One second.

Then the door closed behind me.

I pounded on the door a few times.

No one answered.

I heard the lock turn from inside.

My phone buzzed. All my bank accounts were frozen.

Outside the door was the yard.

Rain pounded against my body, soaking through my pajamas until they stuck to my skin.

I don't know how long it was before a cramping pain shot through my lower abdomen.

A dark stain spread across my pajama pants.

I couldn't lose this baby.

I bent over, supporting myself against the wall, moving step by step back toward the door.

The spare key under the flowerpot should still be there.