My husband said he was flying to Denver for work, so I went to my prenatal appointment alone. While waiting outside maternity triage, I saw him rushing down the hall with one arm around a heavily pregnant woman

I will probably remember his expression when I’m eighty.

Shock.

Then fear.

Then something worse.

The realization that the lie was over.

“Hannah.”

The woman opened her eyes.

She looked at me, then Adrian.

“You know her?” she asked.

I almost laughed.

Instead, I lifted my phone.

“Shouldn’t you be boarding a plane right now?”

Maren looked between us.

Adrian opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Another contraction hit before he could answer.

She bent forward sharply.

Instinctively, he caught her.

I watched my husband wrap his arms around a woman who was clearly about to give birth.

The hallway seemed to blur.

My first thought was ugly enough that I hated myself for having it.

Is that his baby?

Then my mind raced backward.

Adrian’s Cincinnati trip six weeks earlier.