If she asked whether we needed anything for the baby, I said we had everything under control.
I didn’t want to embarrass him.
I didn’t want her to worry.
Mostly, I didn’t want to hear myself say out loud that my husband was treating me like something he wanted removed from his way.
So I lied.
And the lies made it easier for Ryan to continue.
Until the Friday night Margaret came looking for him.
***
That evening, the weather forecast predicted a sharp drop in temperature.
I had been awake since midnight, shifting my weight and trying to find a position that didn’t make my hips ache.
At one thirty, I gave up and sat upright, breathing slowly until the discomfort eased.
My daughter had been unusually active.
I placed both hands on my stomach.
“Easy, sweetheart,” I whispered.
“We have to get some sleep.”
I knew I was talking to myself.
