My husband knocked my debit card from my hand at my thirty-six-week appointment, then turned t0the receptionist and told her to cancel the ultrasound.

Then she took out her own.

“Please let her speak with the nurse,” she told the receptionist. “I’ll cover today’s bill.”

Gavin reached toward her bag.

She moved it behind her hip.

“What did you bring?” he asked.

Marlene studied him.

“The receipt for the eight thousand dollars you told me went to this clinic.”

I turned toward my husband.

He wasn’t looking at me anymore.

He was looking at the door.