Chapter 1

When I was three months pregnant, Tom James signed a five-year overseas contract with his company and left for the Santiago office.

He said he'd bring me over once I hit seven months.

"The medical care's better there. The baby can get local citizenship when it's born, and school will be easier for it down the line than for everyone else."

My parents worried about me, so they came too.

Tom called them Mom and Dad warmly enough, but he put them in a windowless maid's room.

Then his junior colleague Yuna Fletcher showed up, and he handed over the guest room with the best light.

"My folks are country people. They're used to it. They don't fuss over things like that."

The day before Christmas, my labor came on without warning.

Tom, who'd promised his phone would be on twenty-four hours a day, didn't pick up a single call.

My parents don't speak Spanish, and we lived out of the way.

In the end my sixty-something father ran several kilometers through the rain before he could beg the neighboring farm owner to drive me to the hospital.

The doctor said that any later and the baby would have been severely oxygen-deprived, and I'd have been at risk of a major hemorrhage.

The next afternoon, Tom finally came, with Yuna.

Through the door of the ward, I heard Yuna, her voice thick with tears:

"I really had no idea you'd ignore your wife's calls just to keep me happy."

"I only said it offhand, that it would be so cool if the baby shared a birthday with Jesus…"

Tom scoffed.

"What could possibly go wrong? Her parents farmed their whole lives. They can't handle something as simple as a birth?"

"And you have even less to worry about. Cry for a couple of days and you'll be fine. She can't stand to lose me. In the end she'll be the one finding a way to smooth things over for me."

I looked down at my father's feet, worn raw and bleeding.

In that moment, I suddenly didn't have the strength left to make excuses for Tom.

…

When Tom pushed open the door, my mother was crouched by the bed, soaking the blood off my father's socks with warm water.

The socks had stuck to the flesh, and every time she peeled one back, my father's shoulder flinched.

But when he saw Tom, he smiled first. "Tom, you're here. The baby's over there, a boy, and what a strong cry."

Tom didn't look at him. He frowned at me first.

"Why did your labor come early?"

I lay in the hospital bed, the incision throbbing and numb in waves.

"I called you nineteen times."

"My phone was on silent."

He said it as if all he'd missed was a promotional text.

Yuna stood behind him, holding a cream-white gift box, her eyes red.

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. If I'd known you'd really go into labor, I never would've dragged Tom off to watch the fireworks with me."

I stared at her.

"Really go into labor?"

Yuna's lips trembled and the tears fell at once.

Tom lowered his voice.

"Maggie Swanson, that's not what she meant."

"Then what did she mean?"

He came to the bedside, saw my cracked lips, dipped a cotton swab in water, and touched it to them.

The motion was very gentle.

Back when I ran a fever, he used to look at me the same way, complaining even as he did it: "Without me, what kind of state would you get yourself into?"

I thought it was sweet then.

Only now do I understand: it was his certainty that I couldn't do without him.

The swab had barely brushed the corner of my lips when Yuna drew in a soft breath.

"Tom, I feel a little dizzy."

Tom's hand stopped.

The next second, he tossed the swab in the trash and turned to steady her.

"Low blood sugar?"

Yuna shook her head.

"It's fine. Your wife just gave birth. Don't mind me."

"Stop trying to tough it out."

He poured a cup of warm water and handed it to her.

My mother said quietly, "Tom, Maggie's lips are all cracked…"

Only then did Tom pour another cup and set it by my pillow.

"Mom, you're right here. How do you not even know to give her water?"

My mother's face went white.

She'd kept vigil outside the operating room all last night, not a wink of sleep, unable to understand a word the doctors said, clutching a translation app, her hands shaking too hard to even type the letters right.

Yet in his mouth she hadn't managed so much as a cup of water.

My father spoke up quickly. "It's my foot that held her mother up."

Tom finally looked at his feet.

"Dad, how did your foot end up like this?"

My mother said, her eyes red, "We couldn't get a car last night, so he ran out in the rain to find help. The road was all gravel, and dark…"

Tom cut her off with a frown. "There's a process for seeing a doctor abroad. Running around like that is dangerous. Dad, you're getting on in years. Don't go doing everything the way you would back home."

The smile froze on my father's face, and he pulled his foot back under the bed.

"Right, right. I don't understand these things."

Yuna hurried to open the gift box.

"Please don't be angry. This is a little gold locket Tom and I picked out for the baby."

A gold locket lay in the box, a card tucked beside it.

An English name: Lucas.

I asked, "Who chose it?"

Yuna said in a small voice, "I mentioned it offhand. Tom said it's a grand name for a boy, and it'll be convenient abroad later."

I looked at Tom.

"The baby's name, and I, his mother, don't need to know?"

He was a little impatient.

"It's just an English name. You have to make an issue of it?"

"My son almost died last night, and you bring her here today to name him?"

Yuna's tears spilled over.

"I only wanted to give the baby a blessing."

Tom's face went cold.

"Maggie, the baby's born now. Do you have to make everyone miserable?"

I pushed the gold locket back into Yuna's hands.

"Take it."

Yuna froze.

I said each word slowly. "My son's first gift is not coming from the person who nearly left him without oxygen."

The ward went silent in an instant.

Tom stared at me, his eyes sinking lower and lower.

"Maggie, I'm only cutting you slack because you just gave birth."

I pressed the call button at the head of the bed.

When the nurse came in, I pointed at the door.

"Please have them leave. The mother needs rest."

Only then did the shock finally show on Tom's face.

I truly did not want to see him.