“All we went through?” I couldn’t believe it. “We? I’m the person without a job or a home, thanks to your bright idea that we should leave our partners. I don’t think you’ve been through much at all, have you?” My heart was pounding. “Oh, wait. Are you suffering early labor pains?”

He winced. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about the baby face-to-face. I know it must have hurt you.”

“And you think dumping me wouldn’t hurt me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I was stupid. And thoughtless. And cruel. But what do you mean, you’re without a home?” I was silent and then it dawned on him. “You’ve left home? But when?”

“On the day we agreed,” I snapped. “At the time we agreed. When do you think?”

“But I told you not to,” he said. “Or not until you were ready to.”

“What? Your last words to me were, ‘I’ll see you at around eight o’clock. Don’t let me down!’” Actually he’d told me he loved me then, too. I didn’t repeat that, I just couldn’t, though from the flush that stained his face, I saw he remembered it, too.

“But I e-mailed you,” he said. “I told you not to leave that night.”

CHAPTER 59

Ruby

I looked at him in confusion. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did! I sent you an e-mail before I left work that night. A really long e-mail. I told you about the baby, remember?” He reached out for my hand, but I moved away. “I asked you to forgive me.”

“I knew about the baby from Sarah, on the Monday afterward. I didn’t get an e-mail.”

“What? I sent it to your Gmail account; the one linked to your phone. Remember you told me the address one time?”

I certainly did remember. I was in bed with him at the time.

“I didn’t get it and I’ve used it dozens of times since then. But why would you do that? We never sent e-mails to each other.”

“I needed you to get it straightaway. I couldn’t call you in case Tom was there, and if I’d sent it to your work address you wouldn’t have gotten it until Monday.” He was quiet for a while and drank his coffee. “When you didn’t reply, I thought you were angry with me.”

“I was. I was furious.” I didn’t need to add that I still was; he must have been able to tell. “I wrote to tell you that.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I gave a letter to Sarah. She put it in your drawer.”

“No, she didn’t,” he said firmly. “You think I wouldn’t have seen it? Responded?”

“I didn’t ask her whether you’d read it. I thought that would sound pathetic.” I saw pity in his eyes and looked away. “Let me check.”