The Door at Midnight
I was six months pregnant when my husband's childhood sweetheart showed up on Christmas Eve, pregnant too, demanding her place in his life.
Smiling, I welcomed her in. "Come on in. Make yourself at home."
In my previous life, I had forced my husband to kick Shirley out. She collapsed from low blood sugar and froze to death that very Christmas Eve.
Matthew did not hold it against me. On the contrary, he softened, stayed by my side and took care of me while I waited to give birth.
However, when the baby came, despite being an obstetrician himself, Matthew sent our healthy newborn son straight to the morgue. I begged him desperately, but his face was twisted with hatred.
"If you hadn't been so petty and dramatic, Shirley wouldn't have died along with her baby!"
"You're heartbroken over your son? Then go freeze to death too. Pay for Shirley’s life with your own life."
Just like that, I opened my eyes again, back to the moment Shirley arrived on Christmas Eve.