Chapter 2

2

Mark freaked out.

He ran every red light on the way to the emergency room.

He was yelling for the doctors.

I saw the fear in his eyes.

It reminded me of something.

I was five years old when I was kidnapped.

The guy held a knife to my throat.

He demanded ransom money from my dad.

I was terrified.

I couldn't stop crying, couldn't catch my breath.

After I was rescued, I couldn't talk for a while.

Mark came to see me every day.

He was so gentle with me.

He told me jokes.

I ignored him, but he didn't care.

One time, he got into a fight at school.

The other kid was a fat bully.

He pinned Mark down, almost suffocating him.

I got so worked up, I called for the teacher.

That's when I started talking again.

Mark was happier than I was.

He kept picking fights with that bully.

He wanted me to keep talking.

Later, I found out that Mark got into that fight because the bully had called me "dumb."

Mark wouldn't let anyone mess with me.

He said not even calling me dumb was okay.

Eventually, my mutism went away.

But I still couldn't cry.

If I did, I couldn't breathe.

It could even kill me.

After that, Mark treated me even more carefully.

He said he would only make me laugh.

He'd never make me cry.

And now, here I was, being rushed into the ER because of him.

When I woke up, Mark was begging for forgiveness.

He was crying.

He said he messed up.

He was walking on eggshells, scared I'd leave him.

I have my standards.

"Once a cheater, always a cheater," is what I always thought.

But it was Mark.

I hesitated.

Two little versions of me were arguing in my head.

The kid Mark and the man Mark.

Finally, I caved.

"Cut it off with her, Mark."

"This is your only chance."

Mark nodded so hard, his head almost came off.

He deleted Brittany's contact info right in front of me.

But the picture on my phone felt like a slap in the face.

Mark had lied again.

Those hickeys.

I could only imagine how wild things had gotten.

I took a deep breath and dialed a number I hadn't called in ages.

"Professor Thompson?"

"You mentioned something about an exchange program abroad six months ago."

"Can I still apply?"

"The program in that area has already ended."

"However, if you are still interested, you could go to France."

"There is a three-year course available for designers, Amy."

"Didn't you want to have a baby?"

"I thought you were going to put designing on hold for a while."

The second year of our marriage, our parents started pressuring us about kids.

I didn't want them.

Mark had shielded me for years.

Six months ago, Professor Thompson had told me about the exchange program.

I could go to France and study with a top designer.

I couldn't wait to tell Mark, but I saw the look on his face when his parents were hassling him about grandkids.

So I gave it up.

I figured I'd have a baby first.

We'd been trying for six months and nothing had happened.

Mark kept saying it was his fault so I wouldn't be disappointed.

And now, Brittany was pregnant.

I licked my dry lips.

"Never mind about the baby," I said.

"We'll just let things happen."