Chapter 4

The pressure from Carol and George escalated. They called multiple times a day.

"Sarah, we' re coming to Austin. We need to be there, to coordinate," Carol announced, not asked. "We' ll stay with you, of course. We need to be close to... well, to the situation room you' ll set up."

Situation room? I almost laughed.

"Carol," I said, keeping my voice level. "Ethan has his passport in our safe deposit box. I will give you the key. You can access it. That' s the extent of my direct involvement in his evacuation or care."

"What? Sarah, that' s not enough! We need your help, your resources!"

"Ethan made his choices. I made mine clear to him before he left. As for you staying here, I' m afraid that won' t be possible. I need this house for myself and the baby. It' s a very small space now, with everything for Emily."

There was a sputtering sound on the other end. "But... we were planning to stay for weeks once the baby arrived! To help!"

"Plans change, Carol," I said. "You' ll need to find other accommodations."

I hung up before she could argue further.

Then, I composed a group email. It went to Carol, George, Ethan' s closest colleagues, and a few mutual friends who had been particularly insistent.

Subject: Update regarding Ethan and myself.

"To all concerned," I wrote. "As many of you know, Ethan chose to travel to South America against my explicit wishes and warnings, days before our child was due. He was aware that I was in early labor when he departed. He also knew that if he left under those circumstances, our marriage would be over, and he would be responsible for the consequences of his actions.

Given these facts, and his subsequent injuries sustained while pursuing his personal agenda, I will be filing for divorce. I wish him a full recovery, but my priority is now solely the well-being of my newborn daughter, Emily, and myself. Please direct all future inquiries regarding Ethan' s medical situation or financial needs to his parents, Carol and George Patterson.

Sincerely, Sarah."

I hit send before I could second-guess myself.

Jessica, who was over helping with Emily, read it over my shoulder.

"Damn, Sarah. That' s cold. And brilliant."

"It' s honest," I said. "He left me to give birth alone. He prioritized his ex-girlfriend over his wife and child. There' s no coming back from that."

My father called again after presumably hearing the news through the grapevine, or perhaps Carol had called him in a fit.

"Sarah, a divorce? Now? Isn' t that a bit... rash? The man is injured." His voice held that familiar tone of detached disapproval.

"He abandoned me, Dad. During labor."

"Yes, well, men can be foolish about old flames. But divorce... it' s messy. Expensive. Think of the child."

"I am thinking of Emily," I said, my voice hardening. "I' m thinking of the example I want to set for her. I' m thinking about how my mother was treated, how she suffered. I won' t repeat that. And you, of all people, lecturing me on messy divorces or rash decisions after how you left Mom?"

He was silent for a moment. "That was different."

"Was it? Or is it just different when it' s not your ox being gored?" I asked. "I' m handling this, Dad. Don' t worry about me."

I ended the call. His hypocrisy was galling, but not surprising. He' d always been self-centered.

My path was clear. There was no room for negotiation.