Chapter 2
Ryan did not apologize.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He did not reach for my cheek.
He did not ask if I was hurt.
He did not say my name softly.
He only stared at the hospital report like it was an obstacle.
Then he looked at the pills scattered across the floor.
“How long have you known?”
Two weeks.
Fourteen days of sitting in my car outside the clinic, reading the words again and again.
Fourteen days of waking up beside him and wondering how to tell my husband that the dream he had been forcing closer could kill me.
“Long enough,” I said.
His jaw tightened.
“You hid this from me.”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
I laughed once.
It came out broken.
“Of this.”
I gestured to the cracked box.
The pills.
My burning cheek.
His red face.
Ryan stepped closer.
“You should have told me immediately.”
“And what would you have done?”
His eyes flashed.
“I would have handled it.”
That sentence chilled me.
Handled it.
Not held me.
Not protected me.
Handled it.
Before I could answer, the back door opened.
His mother walked in.
Patricia.
Of course.
She had a key.
She always had a key.
She entered our house whenever she wanted, carrying opinions like weapons and casseroles like bribes.
She stopped when she saw the pills on the floor.
Then my face.
Then Ryan’s.
“What happened?”
Ryan spoke too fast.
“She lied to me.”
Patricia’s eyes narrowed at me.
“About what?”
I lifted the folder.
“My doctor says pregnancy could kill me.”
For one second, Patricia was silent.
Then she said, “Doctors exaggerate.”
My stomach dropped.
Ryan looked relieved.
That was worse.
Patricia picked up the report and skimmed it.
“Women have difficult pregnancies every day.”
“This is not difficult,” I said. “It’s dangerous.”
She looked at me like I was a bad employee.
“My son wants children.”
“I know.”
“And you married him knowing that.”
“I married him believing he loved me alive.”
Patricia’s mouth tightened.
Ryan snapped, “Don’t talk to my mother like that.”
I stared at him.
“You slapped me.”
Patricia sighed.
“Men react when they’re betrayed.”
The room went still.
Betrayed.
Because I did not want to risk my life on command.
I reached for my phone.
Ryan’s eyes sharpened.
“Who are you calling?”
“My sister.”
Patricia stepped toward me.
“You’re not turning this family matter into a public embarrassment.”
I looked at both of them.
May you like
“It became public the moment he hit me.”
Then I dialed.
