Chapter 3

Ryan struts in holding a massive bouquet of red roses.

"Well, well, if it isn't Jenna. What are you doing here, sweetheart?"

His boys crowd in behind him, snickering. Ryan tosses the roses on a lobby couch.

"Josh sent me and the boys ahead to set up. Lindsay just got her stomach pumped. Josh wants to throw her a little pick-me-up."

He looks me up and down.

"You know what your problem is? You're too intense. You push too hard. Poor Lindsay's having a full-blown depression episode—almost died. You and Josh have been together, what, seven years? What's one more day?"

I look at Ryan's smug face. Turn. Walk over to the wine table set up for guests. Grab a full glass of red.

Walk right back.

He's still going. "Lindsay said her biggest regret in life is never wearing a wedding dress, so Josh figured tonight he'd—"

The entire glass of red wine goes straight in his face.

Ryan screams. Stumbles back, clawing at his eyes.

"Jenna! Are you insane?!"

His boys rush in with napkins.

"Go tell Josh I already canceled the reception. He wants to throw a party for his side piece? He can pay for it himself."

"And you—" I lean in close. "Show your face in front of me again, and next time it's boiling water."

I don't bother listening to Ryan cursing behind me. I walk straight out the doors.

The second I hit the steps, the sky opens. Rain pouring down in sheets.

I stand under the awning and pull up the rideshare app. Two hundred people ahead of me in the queue.

I put my phone away. My office is two blocks up. I'll walk.

Heels sloshing through puddles. I make it past one crosswalk when a sharp cramp rips through my lower belly.

I stagger against a bus stop pole. Black spots swim in front of my eyes.

My legs give out. I hit the wet pavement.

Last thing I hear before everything goes dark: "Somebody call 911! She just dropped!"

I wake up staring at a hospital ceiling.

A doctor in a white coat walks over with a chart.

"You're awake. How you feeling?"

I struggle to sit up. My hand goes to my stomach. Still aching.

"Doctor… what happened?"

He flips the chart open. Pushes his glasses up.

"You're six weeks pregnant. You didn't know?"

I go blank. There's a loud ringing in my ears.

The doctor looks at the chart again, his expression turning serious.

“I’m sorry, but the pregnancy is no longer viable. We can’t save the baby.”

“You’ll need surgery next week to remove the remaining tissue. If we leave it untreated, you could develop severe bleeding or a life-threatening infection.”

I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.

Pregnant. And I was going to lose the baby.

The door bangs open.

Josh comes tearing in, still in this morning's white dress shirt. He strides over, sees me propped up in bed, and his face twists.

"Jenna. Are you done? Seriously?"

He doesn't ask why I'm in the hospital. Doesn't ask if I'm okay. First words out of his mouth are an accusation.

"Lindsay just calmed down. Why the hell did you like Ryan's post? She saw that like and lost it. She just tried to rip her IV out!"

He's panting. Points at the door.

"Get up. You're coming downstairs to her room. You're going to apologize. And you're going to tell her yourself that we didn't sign the license, so she can relax and heal."

I look at this man. Seven years I've known him. Same face. Same eyes. But a total stranger looking back at me.

I laugh. One short, ugly laugh.

"Josh. I'm in the hospital."

He blinks. His eyes flick to the IV in my hand. His voice softens a notch.

"Yeah, I know, you got caught in the rain, you've got a fever. But Lindsay's got depression. She could actually die. You're tough. You'll bounce back. She's different."

He drags a chair over. Sits. Sighs like I'm the exhausting one.

"Baby, come on. You're always the reasonable one. Do this one thing for me."

"Lindsay's really insecure right now. I'm gonna buy her a little condo downtown. Put it in her name. Once she has her own place, she'll recover faster."

He looks at me. Like this is all perfectly logical.

"And the wedding? Let's just push it back a year. Once Lindsay's stable, you and I will circle back."

I stare at his face. My stomach heaves.

Seven years. From college, to broke apartments, to eating ramen off cardboard boxes. Saving every paycheck for a down payment. I thought we were each other's whole world.

I pull my hand out from under his. Point at the door.

"Josh. You don't love me anymore."

His face changes. He stands.

"Jenna, don't start with this crap. I already told you she's SICK."

"She needs me right now. I can't just walk away from her."

He shoves both hands through his hair.

"Cool off. I'll come back later."

He turns. Walks out. Doesn't look back once.

I stare at the closed door. My hand slides down to my flat stomach and stays there.

I stared at his twisted face and pressed my hand flat against my stomach.

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