“Stop it. Stop,” he commanded. She thought he was going to slap her again, but he didn’t.

“You killed it, Winnie. You stole a baby and you’re responsible for what happened to it after that.”

“It’s not an it, Nigel. It’s a baby boy.”

“Was!” he screamed so loudly Winnie stepped back, knocking into the fridge.

Nigel breathed through his mouth.

“A baby boy who belonged to someone else, someone who might one day come back looking for him.” In the pause that followed, Nigel dropped his eyes to the hollow at Winnie’s neck. He wouldn’t look at her. Turning away, she whimpered behind him, aware of the rejection.

“Nigel—please. I’m sorry.”

He spun on her so fast she covered her face like she was almost afraid of him.

“You’re sorry? You…you killed a child tonight! Because of your foolishness. Because nothing is ever enough.” And then he punched the wall beside her head, his hand beating through the plaster in one sharp jab. Winnie screamed and slid down the wall, her eyes closed and her hands flailing. She could see the hate in his eyes, feel it so profusely that in that moment she knew he’d never be able to come back from it.

“Please!” She grabbed the hem of his shirt, but he stepped away, ripping it from her hands. She gaped up at him, her mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out. For better or for worse, was he forgetting that? “Help me. I love you. Please help me…”

28

WINNIE

Nigel had left for a run, and he’d only been gone for a few minutes when the doorbell rang. Winnie was tidying up the kitchen, scooping the last of the crumbs into her palm and dropping them in the sink as the chimes sounded. She brushed her palms together and then headed for the door, glancing up the stairs as she passed them, wondering if Samuel was finished with his homework. She’d take him a snack in a few minutes, she decided. Before her husband had left, he’d given her a generous kiss on the mouth and when he pulled back he’d said, “You’re wearing your face, slim.”

“Oh…? And what face is that?”

He’d grinned knowingly, but Winnie already knew what he was talking about. Things weren’t exactly good, but they were better. She’d stopped pulling away when he reached for her, and Nigel had resigned from his job so he’d be away from Dulce and they could try to keep their marriage alive. As always, Winnie was optimistic. He’d given her one last kiss and squeezed her right breast, saying “Later…” And now the prospect that he’d come home early to do “later” things excited her. Though why would he ring the doorbell? Had he forgotten his keys? She hadn’t looked at her phone; maybe he’d been calling her.