And then he left.
Before dinner.
I remember standing by the window afterward, watching his car disappear down the street.
One hand rested on the glass.
The other remained over my stomach.
For the first time, I understood that my daughter and I were truly on our own.
Or at least I thought we were.
Part 2 — Chloe Arrived Too Soon
The weeks after Eric left became a blur of fear.
Doctor appointments.
Unpaid bills.
Phone calls from companies asking when I planned to make payments.
Nights when I lay awake calculating expenses in my head until sunrise.
My blood pressure climbed steadily.
I kept telling myself I could handle it.
I had to.
There was no one else.
Then, at thirty-four weeks, I went to what I expected would be another routine appointment.
My doctor checked my blood pressure twice.
Then she stopped smiling.
She stepped into the hallway and called for assistance.
