Dominic's eyes crinkled with amusement. He peeled off a thick stack of bills and pressed them into Rodney's palm.
"Mildred Fox's too suspicious. If I hadn't faked the bankruptcy to distract her, how else could I have rekindled things with Clementine?"
"But wild flowers can't compare to the one waiting at home. I've had my fun. Time to reclaim my identity and return to my dutiful wife."
The surgical consent form slipped from my fingers. The lunch box shattered against the pavement.
I laughed.
My hand drifted to my lower abdomen, still hollow with phantom pain.
There's no going back. I killed our child with my own hands—for him.
1.
I sat by the river, picking grains of sand and grit from the meat and rice, one by one.
Every time Dominic's lips pressed against Clementine's face flashed through my mind, the tears came faster.
How could he betray me? Betray everything we had?
My abdomen cramped violently, as if a thousand blades were twisting inside me. I could barely breathe.
I remembered our first year of marriage. Dominic had pressed his cheek to my stomach, our fingers intertwined, his voice soft with wonder.