Chapter 1

Eight months pregnant, I went into premature labor. As they wheeled me into the delivery room, I frantically called my husband, Owen.

The call connected, and I heard the loud, thumping music of a bar in the background.

His new colleague, Eve, answered the phone.

"Karen, Owen's had too much to drink. I'm taking care of him, so don't worry."

Before I could even speak, Owen's voice drifted over, clearly unaware the call was connected.

"Text my wife back. Tell her I'm working late on a project tonight and she shouldn't wait up."

Eve chuckled, her hand over the phone. "Got it, Owen."

I spent an agonizing, heart-wrenching night alone in the delivery room.

After our baby was born, Owen sent a message: "Project's finally wrapped up. I'll be back tomorrow to be with you."

I stared at the words for a long time.

At 4 AM, I replied:

"Owen, don't bother coming."

"Stop looking at your phone. If he really wanted to come, he would've been here by now."

My mom, Brenda, sat by my hospital bed, her eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion.

She held a cup of warm water, moistening my chapped lips with a cotton swab, bit by bit.

The anesthesia was just wearing off, and sharp pains shot through my abdominal incision.

I stared at the fluorescent light on the ceiling, my vision still a little blurry.

A nurse pushed a medication cart in and checked the name tag above my bed.

"The patient's awake? How are you feeling?"

I parted my lips slightly.

"The baby?"

The nurse took my blood pressure, her voice softening.

"The baby was premature and underweight. We sent them straight to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit right after birth."

"They're currently in an incubator for observation. You're not strong enough to hold them yet."

Brenda turned her back, secretly wiping away tears.

When she turned back around, her voice was still trembling.

"You had a massive hemorrhage last night. When the doctors handed me the critical condition waiver, my hands were shaking so bad I could barely sign it."

"I called him over a dozen times, but he hung up every single one."

I didn't speak, just slowly shifted my gaze to the phone on my pillow.

The screen was lit, showing a few unread messages on Ins.

All from Owen.

"Still mad? Last night really was a client dinner for the project."

"The client added another round at the last minute, and I couldn't say no. The whole team was depending on that deal."

"Eve said you called. Don't get the wrong idea, she's just a fresh grad who was kind enough to answer when I was too drunk."

"You're pregnant, don't be so paranoid. It's not good for the baby."

I stared at that last sentence, a heavy feeling in my chest.

Yesterday afternoon, at my prenatal check-up, the doctor said the baby's heartbeat was abnormal and recommended immediate hospitalization.

I called him, but he said he was in a meeting.

That night, my stomach pains were so bad I couldn't stand straight. My water broke right there on the living room floor.

Brenda helped me wait for the ambulance, and I dialed his number with trembling hands.

But it was Eve who answered.

Her lighthearted voice mingled with the music from the private room.

And then Owen's casual words: "Use my phone, you know the password."

A nurse approached my bed with a stack of papers.

"Karen, here are the baby's admission forms and your visitor wristband. Please review the information and sign."

Brenda reached for them, but the nurse pointed to one line.

"Here, the father's information section is blank. No contact number either."

"If there's any emergency with the baby, we need to be able to contact both parents immediately."