The pain in my abdomen became unbearable, and I collapsed onto the sofa, my face turning pale. I glanced over at the cake he'd thrown. A piece was already missing. With shaking hands, I opened Lindsay's latest post on social media. In the picture, two shadows were reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows of a river-view mansion. A strawberry cake with a single candle sat in the corner.
Her caption read: 'For every birthday from now on, we'll be by each other's side. The ultimate expression of love is in the ritual.'
I fought back tears, trying to stay calm for the sake of pregnancy. I couldn't cry, not now. Gripping the sofa for support, I threw the cake into the trash.
James came out of the bathroom just in time to see what I had done, his face darkening with anger. "What's your problem now? You're the one always going on about 'rituals'! I drove across half the city to get you that cake, and you just toss it away?"