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?

I pushed my exhausted body up and down the hospital halls.

What should've been a two-hour checkup stretched into an entire morning, thanks to the endless lines.

By the time I was done, even one more step made my feet ache.

Outside the hospital, I flagged down a random cab.

Half-asleep in the backseat, my phone suddenly chimed. It was a Facebook friend request.

Verification message: [Denise, Jason's ex. Can we talk?]

My heart skipped a beat. Sleep vanished. I accepted uneasily.

Almost immediately, she sent a photo.

I opened it.

Jason sat by a hospital bed, gently feeding a little girl. His expression was soft and indulgent.

The girl held a helium balloon, smiling at him with absolute joy.

She looked familiar.

I dug through my memory.

Last year, on a typical weekend, we'd driven out to a little-known spot for a change of pace.

After sightseeing, it was nearly noon. We decided to eat at his mother's house nearby. She had guests. A petite, sweet-faced woman sat on the couch with a toddler—maybe two years old—chatting with his mother.

The moment their eyes met, Jason froze. His breathing turned erratic, color draining from his face. Something was off.

It wasn't until I yelped from the pain of his tight grip that he snapped out of it, only to turn and walk out.

I awkwardly greeted everyone and chased after him.

We didn't stay for lunch that day.

He locked himself in the study, chain-smoked all afternoon.

I was still processing it when another message came through: [Please. Give Alison her father. A daughter needs her dad to grow up healthy.]

I stared, stunned. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't misreading it.

And then, I laughed bitterly.

[Are you sure you didn't send that to the wrong person?]

My fingers trembled as I typed, barely restraining the urge to curse her out.

[Sorry, I'm not the one you should ask. Try checking with Jason, see if he has a hobby of raising other people's kids.]

I had never met anyone so shameless. Trying to break up a family to complete her own? Her only confidence came from their years of history.

She didn't reply. I, on the other hand, was dead tired.

I took a screenshot and sent it to Jason. I ignored the calls he made after that, then collapsed into bed.

Some time later—how long, I couldn't say—I vaguely felt someone pull a blanket over me.

I opened my eyes.

Jason had come back.

I turned away, eyes shut tight, ignoring him.

He leaned over, gently massaging my scalp, but his tone was rushed.

"Becca, I called you several times. You didn't answer. Ruby's phone is out of service. I rushed to the hospital but couldn't find you—thought I'd lose my mind."

He paused, then took my arm and started rubbing it, voice softening.

"Becca, I'm sorry I'm late. You must be exhausted. I got your favorite snacks. Stopped by the import store too—got you imported milk powder and prenatal vitamins. A peace offering from your apologetic husband."

Normally I loved his pampering. But today, it only irritated me.

Seeing me silent, his anxiety deepened.

"Babe, are you mad at me?" he asked, flustered. "Please listen—it was only because of Denise's mom, Kate, that I went. When they were drawing Alison's blood, Denise fainted from exhaustion. I couldn't just leave..."

"You couldn't call Kate or Denise's dad? It's okay to bother me, but not them?"

I couldn't hold it in anymore. My voice cracked.

"Don't you think this is absurd? Denise's daughter gets sick, and instead of telling her husband, she begs you! And you—your own wife is at her first prenatal exam, and you leave to be with your ex. An entire morning, Jason! You two looked more like a family today than we ever did. Me and the baby—we're the outsiders!"

The more I spoke, the more the emotions surged.

My chest heaved with each wave, and before I knew it, I was crying.

Jason had rarely seen me like this.

Panicked, he brushed away my tears and held me tight.

"Becca, please don't cry. It hurts me to see you like this. Kate has high blood pressure. I was worried she'd get too stressed if I called her. I only thought of her. I didn't consider how you'd feel. That's on me. I won't go if Denise ever calls again. I promise. How about this—I'll block her. And you delete her too, okay? Will that make you feel better?"