“That wasn’t my intention,” he argued. “But I can’t pretend it wasn’t a product of everything that’s happened since I found out Freddie tried to sleep with you and you didn’t tell me about it.”

“You are going to win every argument we have for the rest of our lives, based on that.” I stubbornly crossed my arms. “I can’t be doing penance for that forever.”

“You’re not. This was a year ago,” he argued. “Things were very different then.”

“Why are we even here?” I snapped. “We could be freezing our asses off in Yorkshire with Gaz and Cilla. We could have gone to the Maldives, or Paris, or stayed home in our pajamas. Why did you let me talk you into attending a party full of people who think you slept with the hostess last year? How could you parade me in front of these people without telling me any of this?”

Nick paused. “You seemed keen, like you needed a party, and I wanted to help lift your spirits,” he said. “But a useful side effect was proving to Annabelle that I meant what I said, and that you and I are solid. I assumed any grapevine would have already snuffed itself out. These people all look the other way for each other as easily as breathing.”

“I should have gotten a vote, Nick,” I said. “I’m not just a prop. Regardless of what other people might think.”

“I am an idiot,” Nick said, taking my hand and rubbing my ring. “May I be honest?”

“I thought you already were.”

Nick ignored that. “I let myself get swept up in how well we’d been doing all year, and the baby news made me so happy. We were happy. I didn’t want that to end. And then…” His lips trembled. “I’ve felt so gloomy. I don’t know how to pull out of it, and I knew laying this on top of it wouldn’t help either of us.”

He looked so glum, his face mirroring the way I had felt inside since the miscarriage. My heart cracked. I propped up my elbow on the back of the bench and rested my chin on my arm.

“You have to stop sparing my feelings, okay?” I said gently. “About the baby, about whatever else is going on in your head, about the Annabelles of the world. I’m sure there will be more of them.” I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “I was scared when I got pregnant that we weren’t strong enough. But we have to stop treating our marriage like it’s something that could break.”

“I just don’t like fighting with you,” he said.

“Too bad, because we’re definitely going to fight about something over the next fifty years,” I said.