I called Sarah. She drove me to the hospital, held my hand through every single excruciating contraction, and wiped the sweat from my forehead. Labor was brutal. It lasted fourteen hours, and there were moments when the pain was so blinding I felt like I was splitting in half.

But I didn’t give birth alone, and I certainly didn’t do it in a field. I did it surrounded by nurses who cheered me on, a doctor who kept me safe, and my sister who loved me. When my daughter finally arrived, screaming and perfectly healthy, they laid her on my chest.

I looked down at her beautiful, squished little face, and I knew with absolute certainty that getting rid of Ethan was the best thing I could have ever done for her. Ethan didn’t call once while I was in the hospital. I checked my phone—nothing.

Just a few tagged photos on Facebook of him and Diane holding massive, sugary drinks on a pristine white beach. He hadn’t even checked in to see if I was alive. We were discharged on day five, the exact day Ethan and Diane were scheduled to fly back.

Sarah stayed with me at the house, helping me settle the baby into the nursery. At 6:30 PM, the ring doorbell chimed. I checked the camera from my phone. There they were. Ethan was deeply tanned, wearing a floral shirt, pulling a different suitcase. Diane was standing right behind him, looking thoroughly relaxed and incredibly smug.

Ethan put his key in the lock and turned it. Nothing happened. He jiggled it, frowned, and tried again. Still nothing. Through the camera’s audio, I heard Diane sigh in annoyance. “Ethan, just open the door, it’s hot out here.” “The key isn’t working,” he muttered, aggressively shoving it into the deadbolt.

He finally gave up and pressed the doorbell again, harder this time. I picked up my newborn daughter, wrapped her in a soft pink blanket, and walked out to the hallway. I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open, but left the heavy metal security screen locked between us.

Ethan’s irritated expression immediately dropped when he saw the baby in my arms. The color completely drained from his tanned face. Diane’s jaw practically hit the floor. “You… you had the baby?” Ethan stammered, taking a step back. “I did,” I said calmly. “A healthy girl.

Born yesterday.” “Why didn’t you call me?!” he yelled, suddenly remembering he was supposed to be playing the role of a father. “You told me to call an ambulance,” I reminded him, my voice completely devoid of emotion. “You didn’t ask me to call you.” Diane pushed past him, pressing her face near the screen.

“Open this door right now. Let me see my granddaughter.” “No,” I said simply.