Chapter 2

I remembered the day Logan told me Pauline was coming.

I spent two days scrubbing the house, setting up a guest bed, and loading the fridge with fresh groceries.

She didn't come empty-handed. Pauline strutted in with a plastic bag, pulling out a pot of stewed chicken.

"Organic chicken! You can't get this in the city. It'll be great for Julie's health!"

Logan muttered something about it being unnecessary, but I took the pot with a polite smile.

That chicken?

It had spent two days on a train. By the time it got here, it was completely rancid.

***

"That chicken was spoiled. Didn't Logan tell—"

Before I could finish, Pauline kicked me hard, sending me sprawling.

"You're still talking back?!" she barked. "A beggar doesn't get to be picky! Just because you're carrying a girl, you think you're some kind of hero?"

I frowned, ready to fire back, when the front door swung open.

Logan strolled in, grinning at his phone. Then he glanced up—and froze.

"What's going on here?"

Before I could speak, Pauline cut in. "Ask your precious wife! She got herself fired! Poor Logan—you finally make something of yourself, and she just leeches off you! And when I called her out, she had the nerve to talk back!"

Then she turned her glare on me. "Julie Kane! Listen up—this is your one and only warning. Pull that again, and you're out of this house!"

Logan scowled. "You got fired?"

I was stunned.

I was eight months pregnant, lying on the floor after his mother kicked me, and that's what he cared about?

A cold wave swept over me.

Looking at the man I'd been married to for three years, I suddenly didn't feel like clearing things up.

"If you think I'm freeloading too," I said quietly, "then you and your mom can figure out which one of us should leave this house."

When we got married, Logan didn't have much.

This house? It was mine. The inheritance my parents left me.

And here I was—an eight-month pregnant woman, kicked to the floor and told to get out.

In my own home.

***

I lay in bed, tears slipping silently down my cheeks.

Then I heard them—Logan leading Pauline into the nursery. My heart clenched, but then I remembered something: the camera.

I'd set it up a few days ago.

It was supposed to help me keep an eye on the baby in the future. I hadn't mentioned it to Logan or Pauline.

I needed to know how Logan would handle Pauline, so I grabbed my phone and opened the app.

What I saw—what I heard—made my blood run cold.

Pauline said, "You kept saying she might get a promotion and a year-end bonus. Well, that's out the window now! Fired! And she's about to give birth.

"That other one is about to give birth too. How are you supposed to support two families on one paycheck? Just thinking about it makes me feel so bad for you!"

The other one?

Two families?

Was she saying Logan had someone else?

When I thought about how Logan had been traveling more lately, my stomach dropped.

And those late-night moments...

During my third trimester, I'd been up constantly to pee. More than once, I found him sitting on the toilet, grinning at his phone.

Sometimes he'd be so lost in his phone he wouldn't even notice me walk in. When he finally did, he'd flinch, practically dropping the thing.

His excuse?

"Work's been stressful. I can't sleep, so I watch funny videos. I don't want to wake you by watching in bed."

There were moments I wondered if he was lying. But when I asked, Logan handed me his phone like it was nothing.

"Go ahead. Look. You're just hormonal from the pregnancy, imagining things."

I'd scrolled through his phone and found nothing.

In the end, I let it go.

I focused back on the baby monitor.

Instead of replying Pauline's question, Logan said, "I asked her team a few days ago. They said she was close to landing a huge deal and getting promoted. Why would she get fired out of nowhere?"

"Maybe she closed the deal and didn't want us to know. Doesn't want to share the money."

"I'll double-check with her team."

A chill shot down my spine.

He'd been talking to my team behind my back?

And I hadn't known a thing.