Chapter 2 - The Morning After the Storm
By six in the morning, Lily’s fever had finally broken, dropping down to a manageable 99.8 degrees thanks to the hospital's aggressive IV antibiotics for a severe ear and throat infection. The doctor gave us the all-clear to go home around seven, warning me that she needed strict round-the-clock medication and utter calm.
Marcus drove us back to the suburban two-story house that Ethan and I had bought together two years ago. The house was dead quiet. Ethan wasn’t there; he had evidently showered at Sylvia’s house and gone straight to his corporate headquarters downtown to give his multi-million-dollar presentation.
"Do you want me to stay, Clara?" Marcus asked, leaning against the kitchen counter as I laid Lily down in her crib.
"No," I answered, feeling a strange, chilling clarity settle over my mind. "I need to do this myself. But Marcus... I might need your professional advice very soon."
Marcus gave me a knowing, supportive nod. "Whenever you're ready, little sister. You have the law, the finances, and your family behind you."
Around eleven in the morning, the front door clicked open. Ethan strolled in, carrying a takeout coffee and looking entirely rejuvenated. He was wearing his tailored navy suit, a triumphant smirk plastered across his face.
"We nailed it," he announced loudly, kicking off his Italian leather shoes. "The client signed the preliminary agreement. We’re talking a massive six-figure commission pool for my division. I told you everything would work out fine."
I walked out of the nursery and pulled the door shut behind me, staring at him. He didn't ask how Lily was. He didn't ask if her fever had dropped, if she had been admitted, or if she was even alive. His first thought was his commission.
"How is your daughter, Ethan?" I asked, my voice deadly level.
His smirk faltered slightly, replaced by irritation. "Oh, come on, Clara. Don't start with the guilt trip. She's fine, isn't she? Babies get fevers all the time. My mom said I had high fevers constantly when I was an infant. You panicked over nothing."
"She had a 104-degree fever caused by a severe bacterial infection," I said, stepping closer. "She was hooked to an IV all night. You walked out with your mother while your daughter was screaming in agony."
"I had to protect our financial future!" Ethan shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "My mom did what was necessary because you were being completely unreasonable and hysterical! A man has duties, Clara! You stay home on maternity leave while I carry the weight of this household!"
"This household was purchased with the inheritance my grandmother left me, Ethan," I reminded him quietly. "My name is on the primary title deed. You pay the utilities and your own car lease."
May you like
Ethan scoffed, waving his hand. "Whatever. My mom is coming over later with some homemade soup to celebrate my pitch. Just drop the attitude, apologize to her for that scene with your brother, and let's move on."
I stared at him, realizing for the first time that this man felt no shame. He genuinely believed that a man’s only obligation was a paycheck, and that fatherhood was an optional hobby he could pick up whenever it didn't inconvenience his sleep.
