I hadn’t even known I was pregnant. There was an unopened pregnancy test in my bathroom drawer, bought because I’d been unusually tired and my period was late. Vincent and I had once dreamed of becoming parents, but he’d kept postponing the idea until his company was more secure. Now a child had existed inside me for eight weeks, and I’d lost that child before I ever had the chance to celebrate.

I lay in the hospital bed staring at the discharge papers, unable to understand how the world could keep moving around me. I wanted Vincent beside me more desperately than I’d wanted anything in years. I wanted him to hold my hand, to tell me he was grieving too, and to reassure me that I didn’t have to survive this alone. Then I heard his voice in the hallway outside my room.

“”Doctor, please check Vanessa’s results again. She’s been having abdominal discomfort.””

Through the half-open door, I saw Vincent standing beside his assistant, his face filled with concern. Her examination had revealed only a minor hormonal imbalance, and the doctor recommended rest and routine follow-up care. Vincent immediately told Vanessa to cancel her work for the rest of the week because her health came first. I sat motionless, realizing he’d rearranged his entire afternoon for a woman whose condition wasn’t serious.

He hadn’t spared a single minute for me.

Later, when I was preparing to leave the hospital, I encountered them near the billing desk. Vincent looked surprised by my pale face and bruised arms, but before I could explain, Vanessa casually admitted that I’d called about an accident earlier. I waited for him to be horrified that she’d kept an emergency from him. Instead, he nodded approvingly and told her she’d followed his instructions.

I asked whether he would stay with me, but he checked his watch and said he had a working dinner with Vanessa. When I questioned how dinner could matter more than his injured wife, his expression hardened. “”Claire, stop being difficult. I’ll come back at eight,”” he told me, before turning away. I stood there watching him protectively guide Vanessa outside, feeling the last piece of my heart go terribly quiet.

I never told Vincent about the baby in that hallway. I knew he would suddenly become attentive if he learned what we’d lost, but I couldn’t bear the thought that my pain alone hadn’t been important enough. As I climbed into a taxi, I looked at my wedding ring and made a decision I had never imagined I would make. By eight o’clock, my husband would have all the time he wanted—and I would make sure there was no wife waiting to receive it.