Chapter 1

I was thirty-nine weeks pregnant, the kind of pregnant where tying my own shoes felt like an Olympic sport. Maternity leave had just started. I was supposed to be nesting, finalizing Emily' s nursery in our Austin home. Instead, I was watching the international news, a knot tightening in my stomach.

The report showed chaos. A military coup in some small South American country I' d barely heard of. Then, Olivia' s face flashed on screen.

Olivia. Ethan' s college girlfriend. The award-winning documentary filmmaker, always chasing danger. Now, she was caught in it. Her crew was missing. She was presumed in grave danger.

Ethan walked in, his face pale. He' d been an architect for years, ambitious, always traveling for "high-stakes" competitions or client meetings. We' d been married six years.

"Did you see?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Olivia," I said. It wasn't a question.

He nodded, eyes glued to the screen. "I can' t believe it."

The knot in my stomach clenched harder. I knew that look on his face, a desperate energy I hadn't seen since their "amicable" breakup years ago, a breakup largely due to her dangerous career.

The next morning, he dropped the bomb.

"Sarah, I have to go. Last-minute business trip. South America."

My blood ran cold. "Business? Ethan, my due date is days away."

"I know, I know, it' s terrible timing. But this is huge. A potential major project. It' s... critical."

He wouldn' t meet my eyes.

A sharp pain shot through my lower back. Early labor. It had to be.

"Ethan," I said, my voice dangerously calm despite the tremor inside me. "You' re going for her, aren' t you?"

He flinched. "Don't be ridiculous. This is work."

"Look at me," I demanded.

He finally did, and I saw the truth in his frantic eyes. The guilt, the desperation, the pull towards Olivia.

"I' m starting labor, Ethan."

His face went from pale to ghostly. "What? Now? Are you sure?"

"Yes. And I' m telling you this once." I took a breath, the pain making me focus. "If you walk out that door now, for her, you are on your own with whatever happens. I will not pick up the pieces. This family, what we were building, it ends if you leave."

He looked torn, his gaze flickering between me and the door. "Sarah, I... I have to. She could be dead."

"And what about your child? What about me?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "I' ll be back. I promise. It' ll be quick."

"No," I said, the word flat, final. "You don' t get to promise anything if you choose her over us right now."

Another contraction, stronger this time. I bit back a gasp.

He grabbed his pre-packed bag – a bag I hadn't seen him pack.

"I' m sorry," he whispered, and then he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The sound echoed in the sudden, vast emptiness of the house.

My water broke.