Chapter 2

Selling my grandmother' s wedding ring and the last decent TV we owned barely got me enough for two one-way tickets to Germany. The flight was long and miserable, with Leo coughing and crying in my lap for most of it. I didn' t care. Every mile closer to Ethan was a mile closer to a solution.

We found him at a community festival on the base. The sun was shining, music was playing, and families were laughing. It was another world.

And there he was, my husband, looking handsome and relaxed in his uniform. He was kneeling, not in front of our son, but in front of a little girl with blonde pigtails. He handed her a giant, fluffy teddy bear, the kind of expensive toy I could only dream of buying for Leo.

"And when I get my re-enlistment bonus," Ethan said, his voice full of warmth, "we'll use it to get you into that private school, okay, sweetheart?"

The woman standing next to him, Maria, smiled down at them. She was beautiful, dressed in a bright summer dress that probably cost more than my monthly rent. She looked comfortable, entitled. She looked like she belonged there.

The sight of them, so happy and carefree, while my own son was sick and I was on the verge of homelessness, ignited a cold, hard rage inside me. All the love I once had for him curdled into something bitter and sharp.

I walked right up to them, holding Leo tight.

"Ethan."

He looked up, and for a second, his smile froze. Shock flickered in his eyes, then annoyance.

"Gabrielle? What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed, standing up and pulling me away from Maria and her daughter.

"Leo is sick, Ethan. He has pneumonia. We' re being evicted. I have no money," I said, my voice flat and empty of emotion. "I need your help. I need you to be a father."

His face twisted into a scowl. "Don't you dare come here and make a scene. You' re just trying to ruin this for me."

"Ruin what? Your new family?" I shot back, my voice rising.

"Lower your voice," he seethed. "I don't have any money. The army doesn't pay that much. You should have managed better. It's not my fault you're a bad mother."

The words hit me, but the visions had prepared me. I knew this was coming.

"I need money for a doctor, Ethan. For your son."

"I told you, I don't have it," he said, turning his back on me. "You shouldn't have come. You need to leave."

He walked back to Maria, leaving me and his sick child standing there like strangers, the giant teddy bear in the other girl's arms mocking us.