Oddly, they never discussed what they both knew—he’d been spying on her, and had taken her work for his own. Her work on herself. She mentioned casually she’d changed her passwords, citing a hack of her email, but they both knew she was furious. So angry she couldn’t even confront him. An anger so righteous and pure he deserved to be divorced.

And instead, she’d gotten pregnant.

Why hadn’t he just told her the truth then? Would honesty have stopped the progression of their disastrous world?

Ethan, you are responsible for this.

Back from his remembrances, sitting at her desk, he really, really didn’t want to snoop. After all that happened, it made him terribly uncomfortable. He knew better. But under the guise of the police might be called, I need to do my homework, he started opening drawers.

Top drawer: ink, Post-it notes, Clairefontaine notebooks, all pristinely kept.

Second drawer: stapler, scissors, checkbooks, and deposit slips.

Third drawer: her current files.

And one from the past.

The folder was labeled—Brother P-touch labeled; Sutton was nothing if not organized—Baby.

The pain seized his heart and he gasped aloud. The baby was always in the back of his mind. A whisper on his lips. But seeing the file, he knew what was inside, and he lifted it carefully, as if it were a bomb that might explode and shatter all the windows. He couldn’t help himself. As he pulled it from the drawer, something hard and white slipped out and landed on the floor, and he fumbled the file, and all the contents spilled out onto the white oak planks.

Doctor’s files, an ultrasound, and a pregnancy test.

God, she’d kept the pregnancy test. The pregnancy he’d forced on her after he’d broken her trust.

Sutton was right in her silent reproaches. He was a reprehensible creature. Who did that to their wife? To the one they loved more than life itself?

What the fuck did the word love mean, anyway?

AND THEN THEY WERE THREE

Then

Sutton was green.

They sat together at the kitchen table, and Ethan watched his wife over the rim of his teacup. She was truly green around the gills.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

She gave him a panicked look, made a horrible noise in her throat, then bolted from the table. He was right behind her. She made it to the half bath in the foyer, started retching the second she was above the toilet. He caught her hair, held it back, crooned, and rubbed her back.

After a while, she collapsed in a heap next to the toilet. He handed her a cold, wet washcloth. She wiped her face and turned those huge eyes on him.

“You must have had something bad at the event last night. I hate those catered parties. You never know how long the food’s been sitting out. Those bacon-wrapped scallops—”

“Ethan.”

“—I never saw anyone change the tray. I’m going to call and complain, they shouldn’t be allowed—”