pressed one hand to the hard curve of her belly.
‘Grant, call the hospital and tell them what you did. Tell them we need help with the deposit. Tell them the money was stolen.’
His eyes flashed. ‘Stolen? I am your husband.’
‘You took money from a protected account.’
‘I transferred family money to save my family.’
‘Your family is right here.’
The words cracked in the room.
For a second, something like shame crossed his face. Then it vanished.
‘Boston is not the only hospital in Massachusetts,’ he said. ‘Emergency rooms exist. Doctors handle births every day.’
Claire felt the baby shift low and heavy. A dull ache tightened around her back.
‘Not this birth.’
Grant checked his watch.
She saw the movement and felt a coldness spread through her chest.
‘You have somewhere to be?’ she asked.
‘Leo has a meeting with investors. He needs me there.’
‘Your son needs you here.’
Grant exhaled through his nose. ‘You are making this impossible.’
The ache sharpened. Claire gripped the edge of the counter. Pain wrapped around her abdomen like a belt being pulled tight from behind.
She sucked in a breath.
Grant frowned. ‘What now?’
‘Contraction,’ she whispered.
‘You’ve had practice ones all week.’
‘This is different.’
He lifted his keys. ‘Then sit down. Drink water. Take a bath. Whatever the nurse said.’
Another pain followed almost immediately, stronger than the first. Claire bent forward, both palms on the counter, her forehead slick with sweat. Something low inside her shifted.
Then warmth rushed down her legs.
She looked at the floor.
Clear fluid spread across the tile.
Her water had broken.
Grant saw it too. His expression did not become tender. It did not become urgent. It became irritated, as if her body had chosen an inconvenient time to embarrass him.
‘No,’ Claire breathed. ‘No, no, no.’
She reached for him. ‘Call 911.’
He took half a step back to avoid the wet floor.
‘Claire, I can’t miss this meeting.’
She stared at him, unable to believe the shape of the moment. ‘Our baby’s vessels could tear. You heard Dr. Sato. You were there.’
‘And she loves worst-case scenarios because that’s how specialists justify their bills.’
‘Please.’
Her voice broke on the word.
For three years, she had edited herself around Grant. She had learned which subjects made him angry, which relatives he disliked, which questions he treated as betrayal. She had apologized for crying too loudly after miscarrying their first pregnancy. She had defended him when her sister Maren said he used charm like a curtain. She had believed loyalty meant not keeping score.
But on that kitchen floor, with fluid at her feet and her son inside her, Claire understood something with sudden, brutal clarity.
Grant was not torn between two emergencies.
He had chosen.
He opened the front door.
‘Call an ambulance if you want,’ he said. ‘But don’t drag my brother into your drama.’
‘Grant.’
He paused without turning.
‘If you leave now, don’t come back as my husband.’
His shoulders stiffened. For one heartbeat, Claire thought he might turn around.
Then he said, ‘We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down.’
The door shut.
The apartment fell silent except for rain and Claire’s breathing.
A contraction slammed through her. She sank to her knees, one hand
