Memories flashed before my eyes: the way he'd cried before I did when I accepted his proposal. The way he'd held himself together to comfort me after each miscarriage, only to fall apart when he thought he was alone. The way he'd wanted to hold me when he learned I was pregnant again, but stopped himself, terrified he might hurt me...
Was our baby going to grow up without a father?
Was our dream of becoming a family of three going to die before it ever began?
"No... please, no..."
A blaring horn pierced the air behind me. The light had turned green.
I pulled the car to the curb and dialed his number over and over, frantic.
Ninety-nine calls. Not a single answer.
On the verge of collapse, I suddenly remembered I'd set up location sharing on his phone.
I pulled up his coordinates, and the pin dropped on the navigation's destination: Family of Three.
My heart sank like a stone.
Had he been hurt while setting up my surprise?
Then why hadn't he gone to a hospital?
I started the engine and floored the accelerator.
No matter what it cost, I would not let anything happen to him.
I'd barely pulled up outside the gated community when the hundredth call finally connected.