Then he got to the worst part.
“When I saw the mark on her back, I panicked. And then the doctors started talking about surgeries and expenses I couldn’t afford, and—”
He started crying.
“And I used it. I used her diagnosis as a way to walk out of that room without telling you I’d already failed you months ago.”
Claire’s voice, when it finally came, was so quiet I almost missed it.
“You lied to me for months.”
“I know.”
“Not about the baby.” Her voice shook harder now. “About our marriage.”
He dropped his head into his hands. “I know.”
Claire stood up.
“I would have sold every single piece of furniture in that nursery.”
He looked up at her.
“I would have worked two jobs, three jobs, I don’t care.”
She pointed at June, still in my arms.
“I would never — never — have chosen money over our daughter, Daniel. Never.”
