Chapter 2

I stared at the wall, the pattern swimming before my eyes.

Two years.

I gave up everything for him.

My family, my life in New York, my own ambitions.

I believed in him, in us.

I cooked, I cleaned, I supported his dreams while he built his startup with Jess.

And this was my reward.

A kick in the teeth.

I started to cry, then, huge, racking sobs that shook my small frame.

How could I have been so stupid? So blind?

When did it start? How long had he been lying to me, sleeping with her?

The questions clawed at my mind.

He wasn't here. He was with her. Celebrating their new life, built on the ashes of mine.

The next morning, Kevin came back to our apartment.

He carried a cheap bouquet of flowers, already wilting.

He looked uncomfortable, avoiding my eyes.

"Sarah, we need to talk calmly," he began.

I just stared at him, my eyes swollen, my heart a block of ice.

"I brought the divorce papers," he said, placing a folder on the coffee table. "It's better if we do this quickly, cleanly."

He gestured to the papers. "I've already moved some of the marital assets. It's just easier this way. You're unemployed, Sarah. You don't have family support, as far as I know. This is generous."

Generous. He called this generous.

"You think I'm just going to sign away my life because you found a richer, more convenient option?" My voice was low, dangerous.

"It' s not like that," he said, but his eyes darted away.

He knew it was exactly like that.

"I want my share, Kevin," I said, my voice gaining strength. "Everything I'm entitled to."

"There isn't much, Sarah," he said, trying to sound regretful. "The startup has taken everything. We're barely afloat."

A lie. He was planning to marry Jess for funding. He expected a windfall.

His phone buzzed on the table. Jess's name flashed on the screen.

He picked it up, his voice instantly softening. "Hey, honey. Yeah, I'm just finishing up here. I'll be there soon."

He hung up and looked back at me, his patience gone.

"Just sign the papers, Sarah. It's for the best."

He pushed the folder towards me, a pen on top.

I didn't move.

"Sign it!" he snapped, his face twisting with anger.

He grabbed my arm, trying to force the pen into my hand.

I pulled away, shouting, "No! Get off me!"

We struggled. He was stronger. He shoved me.

I stumbled back, my hip hitting the sharp corner of the coffee table, then my pregnant belly slammed against it hard.

A searing pain shot through me.

Kevin froze for a second, then straightened his shirt.

"You're making this difficult," he said, his voice cold.

He picked up the papers, somehow managing to get my scrawled, forced signature on them during the scuffle. He didn't even look at me.

He walked out the door, leaving me crumpled on the floor.

A moment later, I felt a warm wetness between my legs.

I looked down. Blood.

Dark red blood, soaking into my jeans.

Terror seized me. "My baby," I gasped.

I crawled to my phone, my hands slick, and dialed 911.