Chapter 3

Lacey brought up the deed to my house a month after she moved in.

She sat down beside me with a picture of a crib on her phone.

“This would fit perfectly in the master bedroom,” she said. “When the baby’s older, we can move them into the spare room.”

I glanced at it. “Don’t order it yet.”

She immediately put her phone face down. “What’s the problem this time?”

“I’m not switching bedrooms.”

She stared at me, then gave a little laugh. “What? Are you afraid I’ll kick you out? I’d need to own part of the place first, wouldn’t I? When are we adding my name to the deed?”

I moved a throw pillow on the sofa aside. “We’re not.”

Lacey sat up straight. “Hear me out. I’m pregnant. The wedding has also been held off. I need some security.”

I looked at her. “What’s Robby contributing?”

She frowned. “Why are you bringing him into this again? He’s in Amabel. I’m living with you, so of course I’m talking to you about it first.”

I said nothing.

Lacey gestured at her stomach. “I’m not even asking you to give the baby your last name. That’s me being considerate.

“All I want is my name on the deed. It’s not like I’m taking the house away from you. Do you have to be so stingy?”

My parents had put up the $100,000 down payment.

I had been paying the $1,600 monthly mortgage for three years.

She rested a hand on her stomach as if the baby inside counted as her down payment.

I said, “That was my parents’ money. I don’t get to just give it away.”

She scoffed. “You’re too old to be using your parents as an excuse, don’t you think? Are you going to let them make every decision for us after we’re married too?”

I pulled out the wedding plans she had tucked under the coffee table.

I said, “I’ve canceled the wedding. We’re not getting married.”

Lacey stopped smiling.

“You actually canceled it?”

I nodded.

She jumped to her feet. “Brooke, you can be angry, but you don’t have to take it this far. I’m still living here. What will people think of me?”

I folded the wedding plans. “Even though we’re not getting married, you can still stay here for now.”

She stared at me and struggled for a response. Finally, she said she would not stay another day once Robby came back.

I just listened without giving a response.

That day, I told my parents I had ended the engagement.

Mom stayed silent for a long time. Dad simply told me to make a clean break with Lacey.

In December, my assignment was officially approved.

My flight was booked for March fifth. I would be away for six months.

I sent Lacey my departure date.

She replied with an eye-roll emoji and a message.

[I’m not due until March fifteenth. We’ll talk about this closer to the time.]

I did not change my travel plans.

After that, she brought up hiring a night nurse, getting help with her recovery and even which preschool the child would attend.

Whenever I said no, she told me, “You’ll come around when the time comes.”

On March fourth, she saw me wheel my suitcase to the front door. She could no longer put the conversation off.

“Are you really going to Amabel?” Lacey asked.

“I leave tomorrow morning.”

She put down her fork. “Would they actually fire you if you didn’t go? I’m about to have a baby. Can’t you talk to your boss?”

I tucked my travel documents into my bag. “You’ve known for three months.”

She was close to tears. “Did you think telling me makes it okay? I never agreed to this!”

I looked at her and waited for her to finish.

Lacey said, “You knew I couldn’t count on Robby, yet you insist on leaving at a time like this. Who am I supposed to turn to? Does making money abroad matter more than me and the baby?”

“Robby’s career matters, but mine doesn’t?”

She had no answer to that and quickly looked away.

Lacey said, “It’s different for him. Taking time off could cost him a fortune. What’s so important about your job that you can’t leave a few days later?”

I nodded once and set my carry-on upright.

She stepped in front of my suitcase. “Fine. You can go, but we’re settling this first. Marry me or put my name on the deed. Pick one.”

“I’m not doing either.”

“Then, how do I know you’ll take responsibility?” Lacey demanded.

“It never was.”

She broke down crying. Her accusations came one after another: I had tricked her into keeping the baby, exploited her trust, and abandoned her. She said she would never forget it.

I did not ask what that was supposed to mean.

She knew she had decided to keep the baby before she ever asked to move in.

I called her mother and had Lacey explain the pregnancy and her plans for the birth.

Instead of asking her parents to help or asking Robby to do his part, she had spent all that time waiting for me to give in.

That night, her mother agreed to come.

I put her hospital bag by the front door and left the hospital’s phone number on top.

Sometime after four the next morning, Lacey said her stomach hurt.

I called an ambulance and went with her to the hospital. When her mother arrived, I explained the situation.

Lacey clutched my sleeve. “You’re still leaving after coming all this way? What if they need a family member to sign something when the baby comes?”

Her mother was standing right beside her.

I handed her mother the bag of medical records.

“Your mother’s here,” I said.

Lacey would not let go. “You were never like this. I get that you’re mad at me, but you could still act like a decent human being.”

I pulled my sleeve free and took hold of my suitcase handle.

By the time I reached the boarding gate, she had sent me thirty-seven messages.

In the last one, she said she had been admitted to the maternity ward and told me to come back.

I confirmed that her mother was still at the hospital and switched off my phone.

She had thought of everyone she could turn to except the baby’s actual father.

Dawn was breaking as the plane lifted off.

March fifth.

She gave birth to a boy ten days before her due date.

I was watching a flight attendant close the cabin door.