Page 21 of The Space He Left
"Nervous about tomorrow?" Sam asked gently.
"The baby shower?" I let out a bitter laugh. "Honestly, I already know Jack won't be there. He'll have another Madison emergency, another crisis that only he can handle. I've accepted that this is my life now - me and baby girl."
"That's not fair to you."
"No, it's not. But apparently, fairness isn't a factor in marriage when your husband's ex-girlfriend has cancer." The words tasted bitter. "God, Sam, why can't he see it? She always needs him when I do. Our anniversary, my appointments, every time we have something planned, she's suddenly ill and needs Jack. I showed him that Instagram post of Madison out partyingthat night after she supposedly needed him so desperately that he couldn't answer his phone while I was in the hospital..."
"What Instagram post?"
I pulled out my phone and showed him the photo. Sam's expression darkened as he studied it.
"This was taken the night you were in the hospital?"
"According to the timestamp, yes."
Sam was quiet for a long moment. "She doesn't look ill."
"I know. But every time I try to bring it up with Jack, he gets defensive. Says Madison is just trying to keep up appearances, that I don't understand how scared she is." I sighed. "Maybe I'm being paranoid. Maybe she is really sick and just having a good day in this photo."
"Or maybe Jack doesn't want to see what's really happening. He's always been too trusting, and Madison is a viper."
The possibility hung between us, unspoken but understood. Maybe Jack was being manipulated. Maybe Madison wasn't as sick as she claimed. Maybe my husband was choosing another woman over his pregnant wife based on lies.
But even if that were true, it didn't change the fact that Jack was making those choices. Madison might be manipulating the situation, but Jack was the one deciding to believe her, to prioritize her needs, to miss the most important moments of his wife's pregnancy.
Dr. Morris was her usual efficient self, but I could see concern in her eyes as she noted the numbers.
"Your blood pressure is elevated," she said, frowning at the reading. "Have you been under stress lately?"
"Jack has been helping his ex-girlfriend through cancer treatment. He's missed most of my appointments and wasn't available when I was in the hospital with contractions."
Dr. Morris set down her chart and looked at me directly. "Harper, stress at this stage of pregnancy can be dangerous.You're two weeks from your due date. You need support, not additional worry."
"I know. I'm trying to manage it."
"Where is Jack today?"
"With Madison. The ex-girlfriend." I couldn't hide the bitterness from my voice.
Dr. Morris was quiet for a moment, and I could see her choosing her words carefully. "Harper, I understand that cancer is serious, but so is pregnancy. So is labor and delivery. Your husband needs to understand that you're approaching one of the most significant medical events of your life, and you need his support."
"I've tried to tell him that."
As she examined me, checking my cervix and discussing the signs of labor, I found myself taking mental notes not for Jack, but for Sam. Sam, who would answer his phone. Sam, who would drop everything to drive me to the hospital. Sam, who had become more of a partner to me in the later stages of this pregnancy than my actual husband.
"Any questions?" Dr. Morris asked.
"What if Jack isn't here when I go into labor?"
Her expression softened. "Then make sure you have someone who can be. Labor is intense, Harper. You need someone who can focus entirely on you and your needs."
The ride home was quiet, both Sam and I processing what we'd heard.
"Harper," Sam said finally, "I want you to know that if Jack isn't there when the baby comes... I'll be honored to help."
"Sam, you don't have to—"
"I want to. You shouldn't have to face labor alone."
