Chapter 8 - Thirty-Two Weeks
I had spent nine years telling frightened families not to panic.
At 12:19 on Christmas Day, I discovered how useless that advice felt when the patient was your own unborn child.
Gabriel's team had an ambulance waiting.
Matthias climbed inside with me.
I almost told him to get out.
Then another contraction hit, and I crushed his hand hard enough to make the decision irrelevant.
“Hospital notified,” the paramedic said. “NICU team is waiting.”
I knew every implication hidden inside those words.
Respiratory distress.
Feeding problems.
Temperature instability.
Weeks in intensive care.
Maybe worse.
“Contractions three minutes apart,” I said.
The paramedic blinked.
“I've got it.”
“Sorry.”
“You're a nurse?”
“Trauma.”
“That explains it.”
Matthias sat beside me.
Blood stained his shirt.
Not his.
Victor's gun had grazed Gabriel during the arrest, and Matthias had helped hold pressure until another operative took over.
“Is Mercer okay?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Mom?”
“She's with Richard.”
“Victor?”
“Federal custody.”
Another contraction.
I breathed.
Matthias offered his hand again.
I took it.
Not because I forgave him.
Because I was scared.
Sometimes the body reaches for familiar things before the heart can object.
At Greenwich Hospital, everything moved quickly.
Monitor.
Ultrasound.
IV.
Medication.
Questions.
A physician examined me and delivered the first good news of the day.
Labor was real, but delivery did not appear immediate.
They could try to slow it.
Steroids would help our daughter's lungs mature if she came early.
I cried then.
Not dramatically.
Just silent tears into the pillow.
Matthias stood beside the window.
He looked destroyed.
“Serena.”
I turned away.
“Please don't.”
“I need to say something.”
“You've needed to say many things for months.”
He accepted that.
“I ended it with Fiona.”
I laughed weakly.
“When? During the kidnapping?”
“Yesterday morning.”
I looked at him.
“Before the party?”
“Yes.”
“Then why bring her?”
“Victor instructed me to.”
That made no sense.
Matthias explained.
Fiona had confessed part of the espionage scheme the previous morning. Not the affair—Matthias already knew about that because he was participating in it—but Victor's involvement.
She told Matthias someone was monitoring her.
If she suddenly stopped cooperating, Victor might act.
So Matthias brought her to the party to maintain appearances while quietly planning to speak with Richard.
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
“You could have called the police.”
“Yes.”
“You could have done almost anything except arrive publicly with your mistress while your pregnant wife waited alone.”
“Yes.”
No excuses.
That made it harder to stay furious.
Not impossible.
Just harder.
“Why did you cheat?”
His face changed.
There it was.
The question beneath every other question.
He sat.
“I was a coward.”
“That's a description. Not a reason.”
He looked at his hands.
“After the second miscarriage, I didn't know how to talk to you.”
My chest tightened.
“You think I did?”
“No.”
“Then why Fiona?”
“Because nothing with her mattered.”
I stared at him.
“That is not comforting.”
“I know.”
He swallowed.
“With you, every conversation mattered. Every doctor's appointment mattered. Every time you cried in the bathroom and pretended you hadn't, I knew. And I hated myself because I couldn't fix any of it.”
“So you found someone who required nothing.”
“Yes.”
“And when I got pregnant again?”
“I was terrified to believe we'd keep her.”
I touched my stomach.
“You abandoned me before you could be abandoned.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
It was the ugliest honest thing he had ever said.
I did not forgive him.
But I understood him.
Those were different things.
“You need to leave.”
He nodded.
“I'll be outside.”
“No. I mean us.”
His face went still.
“I know.”
“I don't know if this marriage survives.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to earn forgiveness by getting kidnapped or helping expose Victor.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
A broken laugh escaped him.
“Okay.”
He stood.
At the door, I called his name.
He turned.
“You can stay at the hospital.”
Hope appeared too quickly.
I killed it gently.
“For her. Not for us.”
He nodded.
“For her.”
The next forty-eight hours changed everything again.
Labor slowed.
Our daughter stayed inside.
Victor was charged with multiple federal and state offenses while investigators reopened my father's death.
The released archive exposed decades of corruption involving Hensley executives, contractors, and several Dre employees.
Richard publicly stepped down as chairman.
Dre Holdings' stock collapsed.
Christmas became a media circus.
I turned off the television.
Fiona visited on December 27.
She stood awkwardly inside my hospital room.
“I came to apologize.”
“I don't need an apology.”
She flinched.
“I need testimony.”
She looked surprised.
“Against Victor?”
“And anyone else involved.”
“Yes.”
“Complete testimony.”
“Yes.”
“Even if it makes you look terrible.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Then do that.”
She moved toward the door.
“Fiona.”
She stopped.
“The necklace.”
Her face reddened.
“I gave it to investigators.”
“Good.”
“I never wanted it after I learned he bought it using a corporate card.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
Of course Matthias had.
Fiona smiled faintly.
Then left.
That evening, my mother sat beside me.
“Your father would be proud.”
“I'm still angry with you.”
“You should be.”
“Eleven years, Mom.”
“I know.”
“But I'm glad you're alive.”
She took my hand.
“Same.”
Through the glass wall, Matthias sat alone in the corridor.
He had not tried to enter.
He had not sent flowers.
He had not asked for forgiveness again.
He simply remained there.
At midnight, the nurse brought me a sealed envelope.
“Someone left this.”
I opened it.
Inside was Matthias's wedding ring.
And a note.
I won't ask you to trust me because I haven't earned it. I'll sign whatever you need. The house is yours. Every account is disclosed. Every password is with your attorney. Whatever happens to us, our daughter will never have to wonder whether I showed up for her.
I stared at the ring.
Then turned the note over.
There was one more sentence.
May you like
I loved you badly, Serena. I'm going to learn whether I can become a man who loves her better.
For the first time since Christmas Eve, I cried for my marriage.
