Chapter 2

I ran my hand along the armrest. "This couch wasn't cheap, was it?"

She laughed.

"Eight thousand. Grant said I work so hard nursing, I deserve it."

Eight thousand. That was two months of tips working the casino floor in Las Vegas.

I glanced around the room. "Can I see the bedroom? I heard Dr. Grant's place is gorgeous. I'd love to get some ideas."

She nodded.

"Sure. Take a look."

She led me into the master bedroom.

That king-size bed—the brand I'd admired for months but couldn't justify buying.

On the nightstand: their wedding photo. A photo from the baby's first month celebration.

The closet door was ajar. His dress shirts hung next to her sundresses.

On the vanity: a full set of expensive skincare.

Last month, Grant said his mom's birthday was coming up. He asked me to wire money for a gift.

Turns out, his "mom" is in her early twenties.

I pointed at the skincare. "That's expensive."

She smiled. "Grant bought it. He says women need to take care of themselves. Can't let yourself turn into a hag."

A hag.

I touched my own face. Fine lines from years of working in smoke-filled casinos, smiling through graveyard shifts serving drunk gamblers.

I became a hag working doubles for this family. And he used my money to keep her dewy.

She grabbed a serum bottle, about to squeeze some onto my hand.

"Try this. The repair effects are amazing."

I pulled my hand back.

These hands had carried trays loaded with drinks through packed casino floors, dealt with grabby drunks at 3 a.m., and smiled through every humiliation for tips.

They didn't deserve anything this expensive.

But she grabbed my wrist anyway, frowning.

"Your hands are so rough. You've got to take care of yourself. Our Grant can't stand seeing a woman suffer."

She held up her own hand. Her fingers were pale and soft. The diamond on her ring finger was blinding.

"This—he gave me this when he proposed. He said he makes money just so me and the baby can live our best lives."

She kept going. "Last time I mentioned wanting some pizza from across town, he drove over an hour after a midnight surgery to get it for me."

"Didn't get home till 2 a.m. The pizza was cold, but my heart was warm."

Mine was cold.

I remembered one night when I collapsed from dehydration after an eighteen-hour shift. The casino floor had been packed, no breaks, no water.

"Babe, I can barely stand."

He cut me off, irritated. "I'm in a meeting. Busy. You're an adult. If you're sick, go to a hospital. Stop being so dramatic."

Then he hung up.

I said, "He treats you well."

She walked over to the crib, face glowing.

"He does. After I had the baby, he got even better. He says childbirth is suffering. He owes me for the rest of his life."

"We never run out of supplements. He says his mom's health got wrecked giving birth to him. He won't let me go through that."

I lived on casino staff meals and energy drinks for months to save money for the mortgage. Got acute gastritis from the stress and irregular eating. Curled up in my tiny apartment, writhing in pain.

I called him. He said his mom's back was hurting. He had to take her to the hospital. Told me to tough it out.

He knows how to care for people.

Just not me.

I asked, "You're so young. Why'd you want a baby so soon?"

Her face flushed.

"Grant was in a rush. He said he's not getting any younger, that he loves kids. A family isn't complete without a baby."

"He says he'll work hard, make money. Our kid will go to the best schools."

I smiled faintly.

The first year we were married, I brought up having kids.

He said his career was just starting. Too much pressure. We couldn't afford it.

Turns out, he just didn't want kids with me.

And my money became the foundation for their perfect little life.

This whole family bled me dry.

I was still thinking when the front door rattled.

"Ooh, is my baby awake yet?"

That was my mother-in-law's voice.

"Keep it down. Don't wake the baby."

My father-in-law's voice.

I turned around.

My in-laws came through the door loaded down with grocery bags. They saw me standing in the bedroom.

Their faces went white.

They froze.

"J-Jane?"

My mother-in-law dropped the dragon fruit she was holding.

Red juice splattered across the floor.