I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
“Our daughter is coming.”
“And somehow even that has become another crisis I’m expected to solve.”
“You’re my husband.”
His expression hardened.
“That doesn’t mean I have to carry you forever.”
Something inside me went cold.
“Carry me?”
He walked toward the hall closet.
Then pulled out the hospital bag I had packed weeks earlier.
“Daniel.”
He opened the front door.
“What are you doing?”
He threw the bag onto the grass.
It landed beside the walkway.
My baby’s clothes spilled partially from the zipper.
I stared at them.
A tiny pink hat.
A white blanket.
Two newborn sleepers.
Lying in wet grass.
“Pick that up.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Pick up our daughter’s things.”
“I said no.”
Another contraction hit.
I closed my eyes and breathed through it.
When it passed, Daniel said the sentence I would remember for the rest of my life.
“You’ve become dead weight, Rebecca.”
I slowly straightened.
“I’m eight months pregnant.”
“And I’ve spent months feeling like I don’t even exist in my own marriage.”
“Then we discuss that after I get to a hospital.”
“No.”
He pointed toward the door.
“You leave tonight.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked:
“Are you seriously throwing me out while I’m in labor?”
Daniel looked directly into my eyes.
“Yes.”
That was the moment I stopped fighting for him.
I called my neighbor, Gloria Martinez.
Seventy-two years old.
Five feet two.
Widowed.
Terrifying when angry.
She arrived wearing sweatpants and a rain jacket.
The second she saw me standing beside my hospital bag, she looked at Daniel.
“What did you do?”
Daniel stepped back.
“Stay out of this.”
Gloria pointed one finger at him.
“You should be praying I stay out of it.”
She helped me into her SUV.
As she closed my door, Daniel called after me.
“Don’t come back here.”
I looked through the window at the man I had married.
Then I said quietly:
“I won’t.”
Part Two — The Ring
My daughter was born fourteen hours later.
Five pounds and nine ounces.
Healthy lungs.
Dark hair.
And a grip surprisingly strong for someone who had existed outside my body for less than five minutes.
The nurses placed her against my chest.
I cried.
Not because Daniel wasn’t there.
