Chapter 1

The ultrasound gel felt cold on my stomach, but Dr. Ramirez’s smile was warm. “Everything looks perfect, Olivia. A healthy baby girl.” A girl. My hand went to my belly, a wave of pure joy washing over me. Ten years I’d loved Ethan Vance, ten years of trying, of hoping. Six years of marriage, in our big Dallas house, a house that often felt empty despite its size. He was my world, even when I knew I wasn’t his. People whispered I’d broken him and Maya up, his college sweetheart, the “one that got away.” Maybe I did, in a way, by just being there, by wanting him so much. I drove home, the sonogram picture on the passenger seat, my heart full. I couldn’t wait to tell Ethan, to see his face. Maybe this baby, our daughter, would finally fix things. The house was quiet when I walked in. Too quiet. His car was in the driveway. I went upstairs, towards our bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. I heard a giggle, not mine. Then Ethan’s low laugh. My blood ran cold. I pushed the door open. There he was, Ethan, my husband, in our bed. With a blonde, an Instagram model I vaguely recognized. Candace. I was six months pregnant with his child. My world shattered.

*Flashback* *The first time, I screamed. I yelled. I threw a vase.* *Ethan’s face, contorted with anger. “You’re always so dramatic, Liv!”* *He shoved me. Hard.* *The grand staircase, the polished wood rushing up to meet me.* *Pain. Then darkness.* *Our daughter, lost with me.*

I blinked. The scene was the same. Ethan, Candace, our bed. But I was standing at the door, not on the floor. The same day. The same moment. Rebirth. This time, no screaming. No drama. A cold clarity settled over me. I looked at them, really looked. Ethan, startled, scrambling for the sheets. Candace, smirking, defiant. I said nothing. I just turned around. And walked out.