Blackwe

days

hick and suffocating, turning the air into something I had to fight my way through with every breath. The floor-to-ceiling windows, which

rate his own heat, a constant warmth radiating from my core. Combined with the stifling office air, it was unbearable. My dress clung to my back. Sweat beaded

he cool setting. My ankles had swollen to twice their n

se do

cately against her lower abdomen. She was wearing a pale pink blouse and a pencil skirt, her blonde hair pulled back in a n

beneath it. A watchfulness. An assessment. As if she wer

little too shaky, maybe, but I was too hot and too exhauste

, and through it, I could see heat shimmer rising from the asphalt forty floors below. Augus

kick against my ribs that reminded me, alwa

Deb," I said, trying to keep my voice le

ast of cool air rushed from the vents, and I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing it i

ch, but her expression had shifted. The pained mask had slipped for just a fraction of a second, revealing something hard

cause I didn't want to make an enemy of my husband's assistant. She just n

thing. Pregnancy hormon

ng about

opped up on the ottoman, a cold compress on my forehead. The baby had bee

et him. Would have met him at the door with a kiss and a question about his day. But those small intimacies had faded over

e. He didn't kiss me. Didn't ask about the baby

ess sliding from my forehe

u do to Deb?

om any version of reality I understood, that I

. "The cold air you blasted at her today caused severe cramps. She collap

en suffocating. My baby - his baby - had been at risk.

th? Austin, it was dangerously hot in your office. I'm carrying your child. Your son. I was worried about overheating - which, by the wa

ne inches - felt smaller when I was angry. My hands had curled into

s the entire conversation. And for that, you're blaming me for her being in t

his dark hair - a gesture I knew well, the one he used when he was recalib

gave me whiplash. "Of course you're right. You and the baby com

ieve him so badly. Because believing him meant my marriage was salvageable. It meant the man I had fallen in love with w

touch felt strangely cold - not the cold of the AC, but something deeper. A

ome. Familiar. And suddenly, t

ofter now, the anger draining out of me and leaving exhaustion i

nto a hug. "And you have

ho had made me laugh. The man who had looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. But he was nowhere to be found. All I felt was th

e for an audience of one. A scene in a play where

. Every marriage went through rough patches. I had to trust him. I had to believe in the life we were buildin

zy," he whisper

ou too,"

ongue. A bitter, metallic lie that I co

ard. Once. Twice. As if he knew

d have