This one bent me over the counter.
“Daniel.”
He was sitting in the living room typing on his laptop.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“I need you.”
He walked into the kitchen looking irritated.
“I think the baby is coming.”
He stared at me.
“You’re not due for another three weeks.”
“I know.”
“So?”
“So babies don’t check Outlook before arriving.”
Normally that would have made him laugh.
He didn’t.
Another contraction started.
I gripped the counter.
“Please get my bag.”
Daniel remained where he was.
Then he said:
“I can’t do this anymore.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“This.”
He gestured toward me.
“The secrets. The military nonsense. The pregnancy. Every conversation somehow revolves around what Rebecca needs.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
“Our daughter is coming.”
“And somehow even that has become another crisis I’m expected to solve.”
“You’re my husband.”
His expression hardened.
“That doesn’t mean I have to carry you forever.”
Something inside me went cold.
“Carry me?”
He walked toward the hall closet.
Then pulled out the hospital bag I had packed weeks earlier.
“Daniel.”
He opened the front door.
“What are you doing?”
He threw the bag onto the grass.
It landed beside the walkway.
My baby’s clothes spilled partially from the zipper.
I stared at them.
A tiny pink hat.
A white blanket.
Two newborn sleepers.
Lying in wet grass.
“Pick that up.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Pick up our daughter’s things.”
“I said no.”
Another contraction hit.
I closed my eyes and breathed through it.
When it passed, Daniel said the sentence I would remember for the rest of my life.
“You’ve become dead weight, Rebecca.”
I slowly straightened.
“I’m eight months pregnant.”
“And I’ve spent months feeling like I don’t even exist in my own marriage.”
“Then we discuss that after I get to a hospital.”
“No.”
He pointed toward the door.
“You leave tonight.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked:
“Are you seriously throwing me out while I’m in labor?”
Daniel looked directly into my eyes.
“Yes.”
That was the moment I stopped fighting for him.
