Christopher glanced at me through the bedroom mirror. "With what?"
"My pregnancy."
"Our pregnancy," he said.
I let that sit between us.
He sighed. "She's excited."
"Our pregnancy."
"She can be excited as an aunt."
"She wants to help."
"Help with what?"
"The baby."
"The baby isn't a family project, Christopher."
His face shifted, just for a second.
Then he smiled. "Of course not."
"She wants to help."
***
The next day, Holly called while I was folding laundry.
"Have you thought about names?" she asked.
"Not seriously. I'm only six weeks along."
"I always loved Lily."
"Christopher and I will choose the name in time, Holly."
"Of course."
But she didn't sound sorry.
"I'm only six weeks along."
***
Two days later, after she sent links for a crib, chair, and rug, I called.
"Holly, we haven't even cleared the guest room."
"Don't worry," she said. "I have it handled on my end."
"The nursery and birth plan are between me, Christopher, and my doctor."
"Family should be involved."
"After they're invited."
She hung up first.
"I have it handled on my end."
***
That night, Christopher took a call on the back porch. When I stepped outside, he lowered his voice and slid his phone into his pocket.
"Work doesn't make you whisper," I said.
"Can we not turn everything into a problem?"
"Then stop hiding problems from me."
The following night, his phone lit up while he was in the shower.
I didn't pick it up.
"Can we not turn everything into a problem?"
I didn't need to.
One line flashed across the screen.
"Everything will be ready before the birth."
The next morning, I waited until he poured his coffee.
"Ready for what?"
He looked up. "What?"
"The message on your phone."
His face hardened. "You read my phone?"
"Everything will be ready before the birth."
"I saw one line. What will be ready before the birth?"
Christopher set his mug down hard enough to spill coffee.
His chair scraped back. "Drop it, Marie."
Something in his voice went flat.
Not angry.
Finished.
That scared me more than the message.
"Drop it, Marie."
***
Weeks later, I found Mr. Henderson's business card in Christopher's jacket while checking pockets before laundry.
"Family agreements. Custody matters. Assisted reproduction contracts."
I didn't wait for Christopher to come home and explain it into something softer.
I drove to his office.
Tessa, his assistant, looked up from her desk and froze.
"Marie. He stepped out for coffee."
"I'll wait in his office."
I drove to his office.
She stood. "Maybe wait out here."
I stopped. "Why?"
"He told me not to put Holly's visits on the calendar."
My hand moved to my stomach. "Holly's been here?"
"Twice this week. Once with Nathan. Once with Mr. Henderson." She lowered her voice. "I thought you knew."
"I didn't."
"Maybe wait out here."
"Then look in the right places," she whispered.
I opened Christopher's office door.
A manila folder sat in the center of his desk.
My name was on the tab.
