Chapter 3

Daddy.

What a cruel little word.

Duane's hand froze around the ice-cold towel.

I followed his eyes.

Alma's daughter had come out of the nursery, a fuzzy stuffed animal hugged to her chest.

I traced her figure back into the room, and my eyes suddenly stung.

Duane panicked.

There was an edge of urgency in his voice, but he still forced it low, so Alma and her daughter wouldn't hear.

"Serena, it's just a word. Josie's never had a father. She's close to me, and she's missing a father's love, that's the only reason she says it. Don't read into it."

The tears came without permission, falling one drop at a time onto the back of my hand.

I looked at him, my voice raw.

"Why is she sleeping in the nursery?"

"Duane, there's another room right there. Why let her sleep in the nursery I decorated with my own hands?"

He didn't answer right away.

He let go of me and hurried to scoop up the sulking, pouting Josie, murmuring to soothe her.

Then, in the same gentle tone, he comforted a red-eyed Alma.

I sat alone on the couch, like an outsider who didn't belong there.

Like the villain bullying their little family of three.

Only after he'd settled them and shut the door, sealing off every sound, did Duane speak.

"Josie likes how dreamy it looks in there, so I let her stay in it."

"Serena, it's just a room, and she won't be here long. Why such a big reaction?"

There was a tired reproach in his voice when he said it.

I laughed, once, without meaning to.

Why such a big reaction?

Because it was the room I'd put together with everything I had.

Because everything in it was supposed to belong to my child.

My home wasn't my home anymore, and he was asking me why.

I took the induced abortion paperwork out of my bag and set it lightly on the table.

"Duane—"

I'd barely started when Josie opened the door and walked out.

She came up to Duane, took his hand, and asked, careful and small.

"Daddy, can I really live here?"

"Of course you can."

"Mommy said this is my home now. Does that mean I get to be with Daddy every day? Is that really true too?"

Alma went stiff.

Duane's eyes went to me on instinct.

I looked back at him.

Waiting to hear how he'd answer.

Two seconds passed. He looked away from me and ruffled the girl's hair, doting.

"Mm. This is Josie's home from now on. Daddy will be with you every day, and all those pretty little toys in your room will keep you company too."

I stared at him, dazed, for a while, then finally stood.

The moment I picked the abortion paperwork up off the table, my hand was seized.

Duane looked at me.

"Serena. Be reasonable."

Be reasonable.

The moment those two words landed, the last bit of warmth in my chest went out too.

I pulled free of him and walked into the bedroom.

I took the suitcase out of the closet and started packing.

Duane followed me in and shut the door.

"Serena, stop this."

"Josie's just a child, she hasn't recovered yet. Those things I said with Alma—"

I cut in and finished it for him.

"I know. You were only saying it to soothe her."

"If you know, then why put on that face? Why hold it against a little kid?"

The moment the words were out, the room went dead silent.

Duane realized he'd gone too far too. He drew a deep breath and moved to hold me.

"Be good. You're pregnant and running a fever, don't sulk over this. I'll pay more attention to how you feel from now on."

I stepped aside.

His hand froze in midair.

A soft knock came at the door, Alma. "Duane, Josie says she wants you to tuck her in. Can you spare a little time?"

Josie was calling for him from the doorway too.

"Daddy, I want to be like the other kids and have my mommy and daddy put me to sleep. Will you come sit with me, please?"

Duane's brow drew together.

A few seconds passed, and he took his hand back.

"Rest for now. I'll come back once she's asleep."

Look.

This was what he meant by paying attention to how I felt.

He walked to the door, then seemed to remember something. "What's that paper in your hand?"