Chapter 2

I should have felt relieved. Maybe even laughed.

Instead, tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

I booked a flight to Switzerland for two days later.

It was the place Dominic and I had promised to visit on our honeymoon ten years ago.

Back then, we had neither the money nor the time. To support his dream of building a business, we lived in a damp basement apartment, sometimes sharing leftover pizza for dinner.

Eventually, his business took off. We built a life from nothing, bought a beautiful house, and finally had enough money to travel anywhere we wanted.

Yet somehow, Switzerland never happened.

When the payment confirmation appeared on my phone, I stared at it for a long moment.

It felt like waking up from a ten-year dream and realizing I had spent most of it waiting for something that would never come.

I started packing. By the time I finished, my belongings filled five cardboard boxes, from clothes and books to the little things I’d collected throughout our marriage.

The doorbell rang.

Dominic’s mother stood outside with several bags in her hands.

“Sweetheart, I’ve made you a chicken pot pie and brought those chocolate chip cookies you love. You need to eat properly, especially during your pregnancy.”

She stepped inside, then stopped when she saw my face.

“Scarlett, why are you so pale? Has the morning sickness gotten worse? Are you feeling any better?”

“Mom, I…”

The truth nearly escaped me, but I swallowed it back.

She had high blood pressure. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I’d lost her grandchild and might not live long enough to see another spring.

Last month, she’d found me alone at a prenatal appointment. When she realized Dominic hadn’t come, she’d been so furious that her hands trembled.

She’d always reminded her son that my parents had died when I was young, and that I deserved to be loved and protected. If he ever mistreated me, she’d promised, she’d be the first to hold him accountable.

She had been a wonderful mother-in-law.

When Dominic abandoned my birthday dinner, she had stayed with me and relit the candles so I could make a wish.

When he forgot to ask how I was feeling, she called to check on me.

She had given me the warmth of a mother when I had no one else to turn to.

Perhaps that was why Dominic had always assumed I would stay. He knew how much I cherished his mother’s love, and maybe he believed I could never bring myself to leave her son.

“Why are there boxes everywhere?” she asked. “Are you moving?”

Before I could answer, the front door opened.

Dominic walked in, glanced at the boxes, then looked at his mother.

“Mom, the pregnancy has been hard on Scarlett. I suggested she take a little trip to relax and clear her head.”

He gave me a pointed look.

I lowered my eyes and played along.

His mother seemed satisfied. She reached into one of the shopping bags and pulled out a large white box tied with a silver ribbon.

“I bought this for the baby,” she said, placing it in my hands. “It’s from Dior’s baby collection. I know it’s a little extravagant, but my first grandchild deserves the best.”

Inside lay a set of designer baby clothes, soft blankets, and tiny accessories, each piece carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

I ran my fingers over the delicate fabric, my throat tightening.

She had spent so much money preparing to welcome a child who would never arrive.

“Mom, it’s beautiful,” I whispered.

She smiled, completely unaware that her grandchild was already gone.

I lowered my eyes, holding the box against my chest as tears threatened to spill.

She was already dreaming of holding her grandchild and I didn’t have the heart to tell her there would be no baby.

Her gaze drifted toward the hospital folder on the table.

“Are these your prenatal reports? Let me have a look.”

My heart lurched.

Inside were my checkup records, the paperwork from the procedure three days ago, and my leukemia diagnosis.

Before she could reach for them, Dominic snatched up the folder and slipped it into his briefcase.

“The doctor said everything was fine,” he assured her. “You should be taking care of your own health instead of worrying about ours.”

Then he checked his watch.

“Didn’t you say you and Aunt Linda were leaving for Europe tomorrow? It’s getting late. I’ll drive you home.”

He ushered his mother out before she could ask another question.

An hour later, he returned.

His eyes landed on the cardboard boxes, and his expression soured.

“You’re really committed to this little act, aren’t you?” he said. “I’m curious how long you intend to keep pretending.”

I didn’t answer.

My phone lit up on the table. A notification confirmed that my flight ticket had been issued.

Dominic glanced at the screen. His expression shifted as he read the destination.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Are you really going to Switzerland?”