At twelve weeks pregnant, I started hemorrhaging out of nowhere and got rushed to the ER in the middle of the night. When I came to, a strange woman was sitting by my bed. She saw my eyes open and said flatly, "The heartbeat's still there. The baby's fine." My hand went straight to my belly, and I asked, my voice all scratchy, "Where's Oliver?" "Paying the bill." I looked at her. "And who are you?" She glanced at my stomach. "I'm Oliver's wife." My ears started ringing. Three years ago, he'd told me he wasn't engaged. Two months ago, when we found out I was pregnant, he'd held me and said we'd get married once the baby came. The door swung open. Oliver walked in holding the receipt. I locked eyes on him. "Is she telling the truth?" Oliver came over in a hurry and put his hands on my shoulders. "Take it easy. It's not good for the baby." The woman looked at my belly.  "Oliver and I have been married four years. I've got a bad heart. I can't have kids. So this baby, we've been waiting a long time for it." I stared at Oliver, my voice shaking no matter how hard I tried to hold it steady. "Then what am I?" Oliver tucked the blanket around me. "Just focus on having the baby. I'll make sure you get your money and the house." I raised my hand and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. He turned his head back, and he actually smiled. "Your mom didn't have a ring on her finger when she had you either, did she?" I went completely still. Oliver leaned down to look me in the eye. "Hasn't your mom ever told you why I came to you of all people?"