Chapter 2 - WHAT HE THOUGHT I KNEW
I stopped walking.
The nurse touched my arm gently.
“Mrs. Donnelly?”
I forced myself to continue toward the pediatric treatment room, but Ethan’s sentence followed me.
I thought Rachel already knew.
Knew what?
Inside the room, two nurses placed Mia on an exam table while I answered questions about feeding, wet diapers, symptoms, vaccinations, and when the fever had started.
A physician named Dr. Patel entered minutes later.
He was calm but moved quickly.
Because Mia was only four months old with such a high temperature, he wanted bloodwork, urine testing, and additional monitoring.
My fear swallowed everything else.
For the next forty minutes, Ethan, Sylvia, Dana, and every ugly question about my marriage disappeared.
There was only Mia.
Then Ethan entered the room alone.
His coat was gone.
“Mom went home,” he said.
I kept my eyes on our daughter.
“Good.”
He sat beside me.
“Rachel, I wasn’t abandoning her.”
“You were putting on your coat.”
“I was overwhelmed.”
“So was I.”
“I have work.”
“So do I.”
“You’re on maternity leave.”
I slowly turned toward him.
That sentence told me more than he realized.
Maternity leave, apparently, meant I had stopped being a person.
Ethan rubbed both hands over his face.
“That came out wrong.”
“No. I think it came out exactly the way you meant it.”
He leaned closer.
“The presentation tomorrow matters. If I get this promotion, it changes everything for us.”
“What promotion?”
His hands stopped moving.
There it was.
The hesitation.
Three seconds.
Maybe four.
But after eight years together, I knew Ethan’s tells.
“Ethan.”
“It’s not official.”
“What promotion?”
He looked toward the door.
“It’s a regional director position.”
I frowned.
“You told me you were presenting quarterly projections.”
“I am. The promotion is part of it.”
“Where?”
Another pause.
“Boston.”
My chest tightened.
We lived outside Philadelphia.
“Boston?”
“It would require some travel.”
“How much travel?”
He said nothing.
I felt cold despite the heat of Mia’s body against mine.
“Would we have to move?”
“Rachel—”
“Would we?”
“Eventually.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“How long have you known?”
“Three weeks.”
Three weeks.
During those three weeks, we had discussed daycare options, my return to work, mortgage payments, even repainting Mia’s room.
Not once had he mentioned moving to another state.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’re stressed enough.”
I almost laughed.
“You didn’t hide it for me.”
He looked away.
And that was when his phone lit up on the chair between us.
The preview appeared before he could grab it.
It was a text message from Sylvia.
DON’T TELL HER ABOUT THE HOUSE UNTIL AFTER TOMORROW.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then I looked at my husband.
“What house?”
