Chapter 10
Jack
My mother’s voice from our phone call earlier echoed in my head, sharp and unforgiving. “Your wife could go into labor at any moment, and you’re in the city playing nursemaid to your ex-girlfriend.”
Fuck. The word was a silent scream in my mind. This isn't right. What the hell am I doing here?
I looked over at Madison, asleep under the thin hotel blanket. She looked peaceful, a world away from the panicked woman who had summoned me here. In the quiet of the night, without the immediate pressure of her tears and fears, the situation suddenly came into sharp, brutal focus.
I was sitting in a hotel room with my ex-girlfriend while my pregnant wife was home alone.
Madison was my past. A past filled with drama and promises a teenager had no business making. But Harper… Harper was my present. My home. And our daughter was my entire future. A future I was actively jeopardizing with every minute I spent here.
My hands started to shake. I pulled out my phone, the sudden brightness of the screen making me squint. I ignored the missed notifications from Pete and opened the web browser, my thumbs moving with a new, desperate urgency.
Home health aide city.
Post-surgery care services.
Cancer patient in-home support.
I scrolled through agency websites, reading reviews, comparing rates.
I found three highly-rated services that offered 24/7 care, companionship, and medical support.
I saved their numbers to my phone. Madison wouldn’t be alone.
She would have a professional, someone actually qualified to help her.
But it wouldn’t be me. It couldn’t be me anymore. My time playing savior was over.
My place was with Harper and our baby.
When Madison stirred a few hours later at 6 AM, the morning light filtering into the room, I had my plan. My resolve was a hard knot in my stomach.
Her grip tightened as she prepared to leave for her surgery at lunchtime. "This is it," she whispered, her voice trembling with what I now recognized as practiced fear. "Jackie, I'm so scared. What if I don't wake up? What if this is goodbye?"
We were in her hotel room, her overnight bag packed beside the door. She'd insisted I shouldn't come to the actual surgery – too stressful, she'd said. Better for me to wait here.
"You're going to be fine," I said, my voice steady. I needed to get her out the door.
Madison nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I need you to promise me something. If something goes wrong..."
"Don't talk like that," I said, cutting her off more sharply than I intended.
"Please, just listen," she pleaded. "If something happens to me, I want you to know that these past few weeks have been the happiest I've been since high school. Having you back in my life… It's meant everything."
The words, which yesterday might have filled me with a sense of purpose, now just made me feel sick. Trapped.
"You're going to be fine," I said again, my mind on Harper. "And when you wake up, this will all be over." A sudden, urgent need to check in with Harper, to see if she'd called, pulsed through me. I reached for my phone, but my pocket was empty.
My heart hammered against my ribs. When was the last time I’d even seen it? I scanned the room, my mind racing back. Not since this morning. Not since Madison had woken up at six.
"My phone," I said, patting my pockets again, the panic rising in my voice. "I can't find my phone."
Madison smiled, pulling it from her bag where a charging cable was coiled around it. "It was on the floor by the chair. I noticed the battery was dead, so I plugged it in for you." She handed it to me, her touch lingering. "You wouldn't want to miss a call from Harper."
Her eyes were wide and pleading. "Promise me you'll wait here? I need to know you'll be here when I call. It's the only way I'll have the courage to go through with this."
"I promise," I said, the lie feeling like a necessary kindness. A final one.
She kissed my cheek and picked up her bag. "I'll call you as soon as I'm awake. It could be hours, but please don't leave."
"I won't leave," I repeated, the second lie easier than the first.
I watched her disappear, looking small and vulnerable with her overnight bag.
The moment the door clicked shut, the performance ended.
The plan I’d made at 3 AM felt more urgent than ever.
I would wait for one call - the one from the hospital confirming she was out of surgery and stable.
Then I’d call the first home health agency on my list and arrange for a professional carer.
And then I was going home. To Harper.
I settled into the uncomfortable hotel chair, finally pulling up the call log on my phone. The screen was filled with notifications. Missed calls, text messages, voicemails. All from Harper, all timestamped early this morning.
My blood went cold as I started to read:
I think I'm in labor. Call me back.
The contractions are getting stronger. I need you to come home.
My water broke. I need you to come home right now.
Seven missed calls. The last one was hours ago. Hours. Harper had given up trying to reach me while I sat in this hotel room, reassuring Madison about her surgery.
I was already dialing Harper's number when my phone rang in my hand. Sam's name on the screen.
"Harper's in labor," I said immediately. "I just saw her messages. Is she okay? Are you with her?"
"Are you fucking her, Jack?" Sam's voice was harder than I'd ever heard it.
"What? That's insane! Sam, I love Harper. I'm just helping Madison because she's sick—"
"Stop lying to me!" Sam's voice exploded through the phone. "It's obvious to everyone, Jack. Everyone in town thinks you're having an affair with that viper. Even Harper."
"Harper thinks what? Nothing is going on! Madison has cancer, she needs help—"
"Then explain the Instagram posts, Jack. Explain how a woman supposedly dying of cancer is posting pictures of herself at fancy restaurants, at the gym, and shopping with you. Explain how she looks healthier than most people I know."
My mind scrambled for explanations. "Social media doesn't show everything. She's trying to stay positive during treatment—"
"Bullshit. You've been seen around out together when you were supposed to be at her medical appointments. What about you two having coffee last Tuesday? Madison was laughing, Jack. She looked radiant."
I remembered that day. Madison had been upset after her treatment and asked if we could get coffee to talk. She'd seemed so much better by the end of our conversation, so much lighter. I'd been glad to see her spirits lifted.
"She was having a good day. The doctors said—"
"What doctors, Jack? I've been asking around. Nobody knows which hospital she's going to."
"You don't understand. She's scared, she needs support—"
"Either you're lying to me about having an affair, or Madison's lying to you about having cancer. And I can't believe anyone would be sick enough to lie about cancer, so that leaves the affair."
The accusation hit me like a freight train. "Sam, I would never cheat on Harper. You know me better than that."
"I thought I did. But the Jack I know would never abandon his pregnant wife for weeks at a time. The Jack I know would never miss his daughter's birth for another woman."
"Another woman who's dying!"
"IS SHE?" Sam's voice was raw with fury. "Madison looks like she's living her best life while you destroy your marriage for her."
"You're wrong. I've been to her treatments, I've seen—"
"You've seen what she wanted you to see. Jack, she's been posting about you two on Instagram every single day for weeks. She isn't sick."
My mind reeled, trying to process what Sam was saying. "That's impossible. Madison's in surgery right now. I watched her leave for the hospital."
"What hospital, Jack? What doctor?"
I opened my mouth to answer and realized Madison had been vague about her doctor’s details.
She'd said she had to leave for surgery, but she'd never actually told me which doctor was performing it, what the specific procedure was. I couldn’t even remember the name of the fancy clinic I’d been to with her once or twice.
"She... she didn't want me to come. Said it would be too stressful."
"Jesus Christ, Jack. Do you hear yourself? When has a cancer patient ever told their support person not to come to major surgery?"
And just like that, the floor fell out from under me. Harper had wanted me at every prenatal appointment, for the important moments. But Madison had consistently pushed me away from the medical details, always with reasonable-sounding explanations.
"I don't understand," I said weakly. I felt the world tilting around me. "Even if what you're saying is true about people's suspicions, you know I'm not having an affair. You know I wouldn't do that."
"Do I? Your behavior sure looks like a man having an affair. Sneaking off to the city, lying about where you are, choosing Madison over Harper at every turn. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck..."
"It's not an affair!"
"Then Madison's a liar. She's a manipulative viper who's been playing you for a fool, and you've been too stupid or too guilty about your past with her to see it."
The words hung in the air, and I felt something crack inside my chest. Either I was cheating on my wife, or Madison had been lying to me for months. Either I was a cheater, or I was the biggest fool who'd ever lived.
I wasn't a cheater.
I certainly felt like a fool.
"Sam, I swear to you, I'm not having an affair. I've never—"
"Then she's lying about the cancer, Jack. Because those are the only two explanations for what's been happening."
"Nobody lies about having cancer."
"What better way to get an ex-boyfriend's attention? What better way to make him feel guilty enough to abandon his pregnant wife?"