Chapter 3

"No," I said. "There's no reason to tell her yet."

"Then when?"

"When something happens." I finished my coffee. "At the rate he's going, that won't be long."

Bri had posted that morning. A bike in a garage, still wearing its temporary tag.

Somebody's treasure chest has everything a girl could want. I wanted it, so I got it.

There's a woman in Roman's office who used to work for my mother. I asked her to have a look at his bottom drawer.

The photo came through while I was driving home. A flask. A keycard for the boxing gym. A row of energy drinks lined up like he was stocking a store. Two brown supplement bottles I had to look up when I got in.

Every Sunday the box came back to me empty, exactly the way it was supposed to.

So he'd learned to flush them.

I put my phone face down and cooked dinner.

After that he worked late more. Then he started traveling. I stopped asking which city.

Then he bought an apartment. One and a half million, three floors down from ours.

Bri posted the keys that afternoon.

He said he'd give me a place of my own. And he did.

The parking space was in his name. The bike was in it.

I heard the door and put the screen down.

He came in with flowers and a smile.

"Since when do you drink?" He stopped for a second, then held them out.

"Roses?"

"You don't like roses now?" He set them on the counter when I didn't take them. "I felt like something different. You have to try new things once in a while or you go stale."

"New things." I looked at him. "Like a new person?"

He went still. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." I moved the flowers off the counter. "A friend of mine. Her husband's been sleeping with someone."

His shoulders came down. He came over and put his arms around me. "That explains the drinking. Don't worry about it. I'd never."

"Really."

"Really."

"Then swear on it," I said. "A real one. May I die with nobody left to bury me."

He stopped and pulled back to look at my face, and for a second he couldn't hold my eyes.

I laughed. "I'm kidding. I'm tired."

He followed me into the bedroom.

"I bought a place today," he said. "I was thinking, when Wren's older, I'll put it in her name. So she's not starting from nothing."

Wren isn't starting from nothing. She has me.

I nodded. "That's thoughtful of you. Then cook for her tonight."

"She's home tonight?"

He'd forgotten. She comes home on weekends. She stays at my mother's during the week because it's closer to school.

"Sorry, I honestly didn't know. I have a client dinner."

I put my hand on the edge of the dresser and gripped it. "What client is more important than your kid?"

"Don't say it like that." He was already picking up his jacket. "Who do you think I'm doing all this for?"

"You'd better be."

He went anyway.

Bri posted less than an hour later. A plastic table outside somewhere, food on paper trays, the bike parked by the curb behind her.

Baby's already a handful, keeps making me crave the greasy stuff. Daddy's chest was bothering him and he sat out here with me anyway. Wait till this little monster's born, I'm going to get him back for this.

I read it four or five times.

Then I called my lawyer.

"If I file, and he's the one at fault, what am I looking at?"

"We'd push for seventy percent."

"All right."

Seventy percent isn't nothing. I sat there after I hung up and it didn't make me feel any better.

I'd been telling myself to wait. He was going to do it to himself eventually, and I wouldn't have to touch any of it.

I wasn't sure anymore that I could wait that long.

Wren was asleep by ten. I sat on the couch with the TV going and didn't watch it.

At 11:47 my phone buzzed.

High heart rate. 178 bpm.

That was his heart.

I looked at the number. The living room was quiet enough that I could hear the clock in the kitchen.

I didn't call him.

Three minutes later the phone rang in my hand. It was the hospital.