At 4:30 in the morning, my husband answered a call from his ex-girlfriend and accidentally put it on speaker.

"Jason, my daughter, Alison, has a fever—over 104. I can't get a ride..."

The sudden sound of sobbing jolted me awake.

Jason hurriedly turned off the speaker and lowered his voice. "Send me your location. I'll come right away."

It seemed he had forgotten that today was my first prenatal checkup.

"Denise Harper? She's back?"

I snapped awake. My mind cleared in an instant, and something heavy shot up into my throat. I couldn't quite name the feeling.

Jason Benson froze. He hadn't expected me to be awake. In the glow of the phone screen he hadn't turned off yet, I caught the flicker of something unnatural in his expression. He forced out a quiet "Yeah."

My heart skipped. Almost instinctively, I reached out and tugged at his hand, my voice soft as I said, "Can't you send someone else? I don't want to be alone. I'm scared."

The truth was, something didn't sit right. That gut feeling women get—sharp and unexplainable—told me there was more to this.

"Her kid's sick—why isn't she calling her husband? Why you? And aren't her parents still in the city…"

"Enough!" Jason suddenly snapped, his face darkening as he rubbed his brow in frustration. "They've divorced. Who is she supposed to call? It's the middle of the night. You think it's okay to bother her parents at this hour? Can you not be so unreasonable?"

The words hit like cold water. I just sat there, stunned, staring at him.

In the three years we'd been married, he'd always been gentle—attentive, careful with my emotions. We'd been close and hardly ever argued.

This was the first time he'd dropped the tenderness and raised his voice at me. All because I asked him not to run to his first love?

Jason seemed to realize he'd gone too far. He hesitated, then softened his tone.

"Sorry, babe. I didn't mean to scare you. Her mom's always been good to my family—it wouldn't look right to say no. Don't worry, I'll just take Denise and her daughter to the nearest hospital and head right back. Half an hour, tops. And you've got our baby to keep you company, right? Call me if anything happens."

It was not okay to disturb her parents at night, but it was okay to disturb an ex?

And was it really just because of Denise's mom?

My mouth opened, but I swallowed the rest of my words.

He'd said all he needed to say. What else could I do but agree?

Jason slipped on his coat and closed the door gently behind him.

He tried to act like everything was fine, but I could see right through the worry and urgency flickering in his eyes.

What kind of touching scene would unfold when former lovers saw each other again?

Sleep was out of the question. I gave up, turned on the light, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

Ridiculous. We'd been married for three years, and I never once knew my husband had a first love he couldn't forget.

It wasn't until a month ago that I stumbled upon the hidden folder on his computer by accident. Inside was a video of them, wild and breathless in their youth, and a long, handwritten poem—a confession of love so fevered it almost felt unreal. That's how I learned how recklessly, how madly Jason had once loved a girl named Denise Harper.

My thoughts tangled into knots.

Morning came painfully slow.

Then, all at once, the blare of my alarm snapped me out of my daze at 7:00 a.m. on the dot.

It had been much more than half an hour since Jason left to see Denise.

He'd sent one text message, saying he'd come back once things were handled, and told me not to worry.

I guessed he'd forgotten—today was my first prenatal checkup.

It was not just a routine one either. There were multiple tests scheduled, and the hospital wasn't close by. Even outside of rush hour, it would take at least forty minutes to get there.

That was why I had gone out of my way to grab an early 8 a.m. appointment—fewer people, less waiting.

But even my careful plans got derailed.

The clock was ticking, and there was still no sign of Jason.

A quiet hollowness crept through my chest.

Annoyed, I called him. It rang twice before cutting off—"the user is on another call."

A moment later, a message popped up: [Babe, what's up?]

Even though I was angry, I kept my temper in check and reminded him: [Eight o'clock. First prenatal checkup. Did you forget?]

Silence.

I waited. No reply.

My heart sank fast and heavy.

I opened the ride-hailing app and called a car myself.

Just as I got into the cab, my phone rang.

"Becca, I'm sorry, I might be a little late."

He sounded completely drained, voice rough and hoarse.

"Could you ask Ruby to go with you for now. I'll order a car for you two. I'll treat you both to a nice dinner later."

"I'm already in the car." My voice came out cold, and I hung up. My eyes stung for no reason at all.

Never mind the fact that my bestie Ruby had gone out of town for work, even if she were here, I couldn't bring myself to ask.

When your husband skips out on his wife to stay with his ex? Tell me—how am I supposed to accept that?

The Women and Children's Hospital in Alstor City was known as the best place in town for maternity care.

Most expectant mothers ended up here.

By the time I arrived, it was already past 8:30. Nearly every department had a line stretching down the hallway.

All around me, I saw men standing patiently in queues while their wives rested nearby or went off for other checkups.

It was efficient, really—saved a lot of time.

I couldn't help but feel a quiet envy.

With a sigh, I resigned myself and joined the end of a random line.

After standing for a while, my legs started to ache.

I hadn't eaten, hadn't slept well, and my stomach began churning violently.

Acid surged up my throat—I doubled over with dry heaves, fighting the urge to run straight to the bathroom and throw up.

But one glance at the long line behind me, and the courage vanished.

Just as I was gritting my teeth, trying to endure it, a young man with bold brows and kind eyes stepped toward me, smiling.

"If you don't mind, I can hold your place," he said. "My family's inside with the doctor, and I'm just waiting."

Perfect-timing.

I thanked him quickly and hurried to the restroom.

When I returned, his family had come out—a stylish, beautiful young woman at his side. They made quite the pair.

She handed me a small bag of fruit candies and a pack of soda crackers.

A true lifesaver. I rushed to thank her.

"No worries," she said casually. "Alkaline foods help neutralize stomach acid. Eases the nausea a bit. By the way, how come your husband isn't with you?"

"His friend's kid had a fever. He took her to the hospital early this morning—at around four-thirty. Still hasn't come back." My voice faltered slightly.

The woman looked surprised.

"A fever? For a hospital visit? Isn't it usually just some IV fluids, maybe an antibiotic? Shouldn't take that long. My eldest had a 104.9°F fever once. Worst they did was an EEG. No big procedures. And it doesn't take more than one person to go, right? What kind of friend is this? Is their kid more important than his own?"

The young man gave a discreet cough, cutting her off. He offered me a quick, apologetic smile before gently tugging her away.

My nose stung. The weight of it all pressed hard on my chest, and I struggled to keep the tears from falling.

Jason, even strangers understand what's plain to see. Don't you?