I laughed, but it came out sharp and bitter. “Divorced? That’s interesting, because I was at our house this morning packing his favorite travel pillow.”

Ethan dragged a hand down his face. “Claire, please. You’re making a scene.”

“No,” I said. “You made a scene the second you decided to be a husband to me and a future father to someone else.”

The girl whipped around to face him. “Future father?”

That’s when I realized she didn’t know everything either.

I looked at her, then at the envelope in her bag. “You really don’t know, do you?”

She swallowed hard. “Know what?”

Before Ethan could stop me, I reached for the paper sticking out of her purse. She tried to pull it back, but too late. The top page was enough. I saw her name—Madison Reed. I saw his name—Ethan Cole. I saw the clinic letterhead and the words treatment plan, embryo transfer, and intended parents.

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