Chapter 1

"It feels a lot better without protection. We should try it that way next time."

"How could I ever think you're dirty? I'm only afraid of tainting you."

I couldn't sleep, the discomfort of pregnancy keeping me awake, and beside me my husband, long since asleep, mumbled those two lines in his dreams.

The familiar snoring started up next to my ear, and suddenly it felt like a stranger was sleeping on the pillow beside me.

Rex Lambert has severe germaphobia. It took us three years after the wedding to have a real married life, and always with protection.

By the sixth year, wanting a child, my belly was covered with a dense pattern of needle marks. Round after round of IVF, none of it going smoothly.

But for Rex's sake, I chose to swallow all of it alone.

Six whole years, I moved carefully, terrified of getting him dirty, but someone had already become the one exception to his rules.

I forced down the sting rising in my eyes and sent a message to my doctor.

"Cancel tomorrow's checkup."

"Change it to an abortion."

1

Because I hadn't slept all night, I accidentally made too much breakfast.

Rex looked at the extra fried eggs and went to boil two eggs of his own. Ever since we got together, he'd never once touch anything I cooked, because he thought the way I prepared food wasn't clean enough.

I used to envy other girls who made their boyfriends lunch out of love. I bought produce wash, a brand-new knife, cutting board, and pan, even peeled the celery, and in the end I ate that three-dish-and-a-soup meal by myself across three sittings.

Before, I would have asked a few more questions. But today I quickly scraped the extra fried eggs straight into the trash can by the table.

Rex paused what he was doing. "What's wrong, feeling sick again?"

I was about to shake my head when the smell of the milk hit me and I ran to the bathroom, gagging.

Rex followed. I was hunched over the toilet, unable to straighten up, and wanted him to help me up, but he frowned, awkward. "Daph, this is a new suit. I'll have someone install a grab bar tomorrow. For now hold on to the side and get up slowly."

Only then did I remember that morning sickness was, to him, like a flood or a wild beast. Once the wave of dizziness passed, I slowly pushed myself up off the cold floor.

"Why is it this bad? Ask the doctor about it properly at your checkup today." Rex frowned and reminded me.

I nodded. From the moment I started my prenatal file until now, I'd gone to every appointment at the hospital, big or small, on my own, because he thought even the air in a hospital was full of viruses. Today's checkup, the baby could be seen on the ultrasound. I wanted one last good look at my child.

Even though I got up early, the ultrasound room was as crowded as ever. The nurse handing out numbers looked at my slightly rounded belly and asked, "You're pregnant? Who came with you? Have your family line up. You won't be able to stand the wait."

I shook my head. "I came by myself."

The nurse frowned and wrote me a number by hand. "I'll hold your place. Go sit in the psychology clinic across the way for now, they've got chairs in their waiting area. I'll call you when it's your turn."

I thanked her again and again and went to sit over there.

"Mr. Harrington, how are you feeling this week?"

"Pretty good. I don't recoil from physical contact anymore."

The familiar voice came through, and through the glass of the doctor's office I saw the familiar shape of Rex.

I hurried closer, instinctively worried he might be sick, but what the two people inside were doing froze me where I stood.

That woman doctor had taken Rex's hand, and when he didn't move, she leaned in and kissed him. Rex just sat there, and the two of them shared a deep kiss.

"Looks like last week's private treatment worked pretty well!" the woman said, laughing as she wiped a thread of saliva from the corner of her mouth.

"Simone, stop it."

"How am I stopping anything? Are we continuing the treatment or not?"

"We are."

The cold of the hospital chair spread from the small of my back through my whole body. I think I finally knew who Rex's exception was.

From dating until now, we'd barely held hands a handful of times, let alone kissed.

Once, when we were out shopping, I tried testing him and took his hand, and he flung it off like he'd touched a venomous snake. The big movement drew the eyes of everyone around us, and my face went hot and red.

"There are hundreds of thousands of kinds of bacteria on human hands, and in summer your hands sweat, it's disgusting."

After that, before I could hold his hand I had to wash mine to a surgeon's standard, hold on for a little while after he'd inspected them, and let go before my hand started to sweat.

My thoughts were cut off by the nurse calling for me. I hurried over, and she pulled out a thin ultrasound printout. "I took a look for you. The baby's very healthy. See, here's the eyes, here's the nose, here's the little mouth, it's just beautiful."

The moment I saw that blurry little shape, my tears came pouring out all at once.

Baby, what am I supposed to do?

I'm already used to it. But if your daddy won't hold your little hand either, or hug you, or kiss you, will you blame me for giving you a bad father?