4. Hannah
HANNAH
Julia's living room smelled like cinnamon tea and old books. I sank into the overstuffed chair by the window and tried to look normal. My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my thighs.
"I'm fine," I said.
Julia set two mugs on the coffee table between us, the chipped blue ones we'd used every afternoon when we both still taught. She settled onto the couch and fixed me with the same look she used to give students who claimed the dog ate their homework.
"You're not."
I wrapped both hands around the mug. The heat burned into my palms, but I held on anyway. "Really. Everything's good. Just tired."
"Hannah." She said my name like a full sentence. "You turned up at my door twenty minutes ago without calling first."
My throat went tight. I took a sip of tea to buy myself time, but it scalded my tongue and I had to set the mug down again. God, I was making this worse.
"Pierce is just busy," I said. "You know how it is. He's got the gala coming up, and the investor dinner after that, and there's something with the board that's apparently critical."
Julia leaned forward. "Uh-huh. And?"
"And nothing. He's got a lot on his plate." I twisted my wedding ring around my finger, then caught myself doing it and stopped. "The gala alone is a nightmare. There's sponsor lists and budget sign-offs and contracts to review. It's a lot to manage."
"He has people who manage things for him," Julia said. "That's the whole point of having money."
"He still has to oversee it all."
"Does he."
It wasn't a question. I looked down at my hands. My ring caught the light from the window, throwing a tiny spot of brightness onto the arm of the chair. I'd chosen this marriage. I'd stood in front of everyone we knew and promised to be there in it.
"What does Pierce say when you tell him you're worried?" Julia asked.
I flushed all the way to my hairline. Like an idiot. "I'm not worried."
"Hannah."
The way she said my name made my chest tighten. "He says I'm making a mountain out of an anthill. That's his phrase. He uses it every time I try to talk to him about anything. The nursery. The appointments. The way things are."
"What else?"
"He says I'm being emotional because of the pregnancy hormones. He says there's a logical explanation for everything and I just need to calm down and think it through, and once I've had time to process it rationally I'll see he's right."
Julia's jaw tightened. She didn't say anything for a long moment, just picked up her mug and took a slow drink. When she set it down again, her knuckles were white against the ceramic.
"Tell me about the nursery," she said. Her voice was careful. Too careful.
I grabbed at the subject like a lifeline.
"Oh, it's coming along. I've been working on the planning papers all week.
You know how we used to set up our classrooms?
I want to do that. A reading corner by the window, with good light.
And I found these shelves that would be perfect for organizing the books by age and topic, the way we used to do it.
Board books on the bottom where little hands can reach them, and then the picture books. "
"That sounds lovely."
"Pierce thinks we should just hire someone to do it.
An interior designer. Someone professional.
" I tried to smile. It felt wrong on my face.
"He doesn't understand why I want to plan it myself.
He says it's inefficient to spend hours researching furniture when we could just pay someone to handle it. "
"It's a nursery, not a hostile takeover."
"I know." The baby kicked. "I told him yesterday.
I said I wanted to make the room ready myself, that it mattered to me.
He asked how much the deposit was. Then he said to just send him the link for the crib and he'd look at it tomorrow, and asked if we could talk about it tomorrow, and went upstairs. "
Julia was quiet for a moment. "When was your last prenatal appointment?"
The question hit me like a fist to the stomach. "This morning."
"How did it go?"
"Fine. Everything's fine." The lie tasted bitter. "The baby's healthy, right on track. Measuring exactly where they should be. Heartbeat's good. Blood pressure's good. All the numbers are where they're supposed to be."
I smoothed my hands over the curve of my stomach. The fabric of my shirt pulled tight across it. I was showing enough now that strangers noticed, that people asked when I was due, that there was no hiding it anymore.
"Did Pierce go with you?" Julia asked.
My chest tightened. "He had a call."
"A call."
"I don't know what it was about. I'm sure it was important." I was talking too fast. I made myself slow down. "It's fine. I'm a grown woman. I don't need someone to hold my hand at the doctor's office."
"That's not what I asked."
The gentleness in her voice made it worse. I picked up my tea again just to have something to do with my hands. It had cooled enough to drink now, and I took a long swallow. It tasted like nothing.
"The shower was lovely," I said. "Everyone said so. Sienna ran every part of it. She's Pierce's event planner."
"I know she did."
"Pierce stood apart from all of it. He was there, but he wasn't part of it. And today he wasn't part of the appointment either."
"Sienna runs the shower, and a call keeps him from the appointment," Julia said.
"She's very good at what she does."
"I'm sure she is."
"She is," I said, and heard the edge in my own voice.
God, what was I even doing? "She planned the fundraiser last spring, the one that raised two million dollars in a single night.
And the investor dinner last June. Pierce says she's the best in the business.
He says he couldn't function without her. "
"What does she say?"
My stomach twisted. "What do you mean?"
"Sienna. What does she say about herself?"
I set the mug down harder than I meant to. Tea sloshed over the rim onto the table. "She jokes that she's his work wife."
The words hung in the air between us. Julia didn't move.
"She says it all the time," I said. My voice sounded thin and faraway, like it was coming from someone else's mouth.
"At dinners. At events. In front of other people.
She'll laugh and put her hand on his arm and say Pierce couldn't function without her, that she knows what he needs before he does, that they're basically married except for the paperwork. "
"And Pierce?"
"He laughs. He says she's exaggerating. He says she's just being Sienna, that's how she is, it doesn't mean anything." I was twisting my ring again. I forced my hands apart and folded them in my lap. "He doesn't see it."
"See what?"
The question was so gentle it hurt worse than if she'd snapped at me. I looked out the window. Julia's street was quiet, lined with old trees that were just starting to turn. A kid rode past on a bicycle, standing up on the pedals to make it over the hill. Normal people doing normal things.
"The way she looks at me," I said. "Like I'm in her way.
Like I'm temporary and she's just waiting for me to figure that out and leave.
The way she touches his arm when she talks to him, always just a second too long.
The way she stands too close. The way she always has a reason why I shouldn't be at meetings, shouldn't be at site visits, shouldn't be anywhere near the planning process for events I'm supposed to host in my own home. "
"Hannah—"
"I told him." My voice cracked. I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to push the tightness back down. "I told him today, after the appointment. I went to his office and I said I needed him to see what was happening. I said I needed him to do something about it. About her."
"What did he say?"
"He told me it wasn't personal. He said Sienna's job is to keep everything running smoothly, and I was making a mountain out of an anthill. He said my hormones were all over the place. And then his phone rang and it was her, and he looked at the screen and told me to hold on and took the call."
Julia sat very still. Her face had gone hard in a way I'd only seen a handful of times, always when a parent had hurt a kid and thought they'd get away with it.
"I left," I said. The words were barely a whisper. "I was standing there, and I'd just told him that I needed him, and he was already talking to her. So I walked out and went upstairs."
"Jesus, Hannah."
I wiped at my eyes. When had I started crying? Like an idiot, I hadn't even noticed. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're not remotely fine.
" Julia leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
"Listen to me. You are being overlooked.
You are being neglected. You are being ignored in your own home, in your own marriage, by your own husband.
And Sienna—whatever she wants—is treating you like you're nothing, and he's letting her do it. "
The words hit me like a slap. I flinched.
"You're pregnant with his child," Julia said.
Her voice was low and fierce. "You're planning a nursery he won't discuss.
You went to a doctor's appointment alone.
You're hosting his dinners and running his social calendar and making his life work, and he's answering your pain with logic and your fear with dismissal.
You're being humiliated, Hannah. And you're shrinking. "
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
"I've watched you handle a classroom of kids who all wanted different things at the same time.
I've seen you stand up to parents who thought their money meant they could rewrite your curriculum.
You were good at it. You were so good at it.
And now you're sitting in my living room making excuses for a man who chose a phone call over his wife and his baby. "
My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Stop shrinking," Julia said. "Stop making yourself smaller so he doesn't have to see you.
Stop letting him wave you off like you're an inconvenience.
You have a place in his world, Hannah. You're his wife.
You're about to be the mother of his child.
Claim it. Make him see it. Do it now, before the baby comes and everything gets harder. "
I pressed both hands against my face. My wedding ring was cold against my cheek.
I'd chosen this. I'd chosen him, chosen this life, chosen to give up teaching and my classroom and the version of myself who knew how to stand her ground.
But I'd chosen it because I loved him. Because I thought he loved me back.
Because I thought love meant we'd build something together.
I dropped my hands. "You're right."
Julia blinked. "I am?"
"You're right." My voice was steadier now.
I felt something hardening in my chest, settling into place like a door closing.
Or maybe opening. "I've been shrinking. I've been making excuses.
I've been letting him dismiss me because it's easier than fighting, and I'm tired, and I didn't want to be the difficult wife who makes everything harder. "
"Hannah—"
"I'm not doing it anymore." I sat up straighter.
The baby moved under my ribs, a flutter of pressure that reminded me what I was fighting for.
Not just me. Us. "I'm going to talk to him.
Really talk to him. I'm going to make him listen.
I'm going to make him see what Sienna's doing, and I'm going to make him do something about it.
And I'm going to stop apologizing for needing him to show up for me. "
Julia's expression shifted. The hardness melted into something that looked almost like relief. "Good."
"I'm going to fight for this," I said. My throat was tight, but the words came anyway. "For the marriage. For us. For the family we're supposed to be. I'm going to fight."
"Good," Julia said again. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "You should."
I squeezed back. My wedding ring pressed into her fingers, hard and solid and real. I'd made promises. So had he. It was time to make sure we both remembered them.