Go Save Her. My Baby and I Are Done with You!

Chapter 2

Over the next two hours, I called 17 times.

The first 16 went unanswered.

The 17th rang halfway through before someone declined it.

A nurse helped me out of my soaked clothes and warned me to avoid any more stress.

People kept passing my room. Husbands carried test folders for their wives, while young fathers leaned over monitors to listen to their babies' heartbeats.

Only the chair beside me stayed empty the entire time.

Dominic had promised he'd never miss a single prenatal appointment.

Technically, he'd come today. He'd just only made it as far as the hospital entrance with me.

When my phone lit up again, I thought he'd finally messaged me. Instead, a new post from Ivy appeared on my screen.

In the photo, a tiny bandage was attached to her forehead as she sat propped up in bed, eating soup.

Dominic sat beside her, blowing on each spoonful to cool it for her.

Ivy: Someone who truly cares about you will always choose you when you're most afraid.

His shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbows, and the worn brown leather watch was still on his wrist.

When I was 19, I'd saved three months of living expenses to buy it at a flea market.

Over the years, its strap had snapped, and its crystal had shattered. Once, it had even gone missing during a move.

Each time, we'd found it and fixed it together.

I'd always thought it was like our love. No matter how old it got, neither of us could bear to throw it away.

I was wrong. Sometimes a thing stayed right where it had always been while the person wearing it had changed long ago.

Dominic finally picked up on my 18th call. His voice was low and impatient.

"Sienna, Ivy nearly went into shock. I'm getting her admitted. You're already with an O.B. Do you really have to keep calling me?"

"The doctor says I'm at risk of miscarriage."

He went silent for two seconds.

"But the baby still has a heartbeat, right?" Relief immediately entered his voice. "You've always been healthy. Just stay in bed and let them monitor you. Ivy's different. Her heart could fail at any moment."

"She hit our car."

"It's pouring. The crash was an accident. She's already terrified. This isn't the time to start blaming her."

"So you're still choosing to stay with her?"

He sighed as if I were the one being unreasonable.

"She could die. You're only here for observation. Why are you turning an accident into some kind of choice between the two of you?"

I stared at the words "threatened miscarriage" on the report as my fingertips went cold.

"Come see me within 30 minutes," I said. "Or we're getting divorced."

Dominic's voice hardened. "Don't use divorce to pressure me. We've been together seven years. Since when do you pull stunts like this?"

"You have 29 minutes."

After I ended the call, an unknown number sent me a video.

In a private room at a members-only club, Dominic stood behind Ivy with his arms around her, kissing her cheek.

She turned, and a diamond ring flashed on her ring finger beneath the lights.

It was identical to my wedding ring.

Then a voice message from Ivy played automatically.

"You weren't feeling well on your birthday last month, so you went upstairs early. Dom said he'd stay and entertain the guests for you. The truth is, he spent that night with me in the room next door."

More photos followed.

Matching pajamas. Holding hands on the street. Kissing by the ocean. And an apartment lease.

Dominic's signature was on the tenant line.

He'd set Ivy up in another home just three blocks from ours.

The gray cashmere throw from my bedroom lay draped across her couch.

Dominic had taken it last month, claiming his office got cold at night.

The sudden business trips, the late-night glow of his phone, the unfamiliar perfume on his shirts. Suddenly, it all made sense.

I didn't cry. I saved the evidence, one image at a time.

At 19, I'd lived with Dominic in a basement with a leaking ceiling.

At our poorest, we'd split a single dinner. He'd give me the only piece of beef and promise that once he became rich, he'd never let me suffer any of it again.

Later, his company moved into one of downtown Westbridge's most expensive office towers, and our home kept getting bigger.

I'd thought our hard years were finally behind us.

I never imagined the man I'd struggled beside would leave me with nothing once he finally had everything.

30 minutes passed. My door never opened.

At the 47-minute mark, Dominic finally appeared.

Rain darkened his shoulders. His face held no concern, only irritation at being dragged there.

He pulled out the chair, sat down, and said, "I'm here. Happy now?"