His expression hardened.
“I contributed to that account too.”
I stared at him.
“So it was your money?”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“It sounded pretty close.”
“I put thousands into that account, Allison.”
“So did I.”
“I know.”
“My freelance income.”
“I know.”
“My tax refund.”
“I know.”
“The money meant to keep me home after I give birth.”
“I know.”
“Then what exactly did your contribution entitle you to do?”
He couldn’t answer.
A contraction tightened brutally across my lower back.
I gripped the bedrail until it passed.
Nathan reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
Then I remembered something.
Three weeks earlier, when I’d suggested postpartum help, Nathan had said:
“Let’s not start spending the cushion before we actually need it.”
I repeated the sentence.
His face went pale.
Apparently, help for his recovering wife was premature spending.
His mother’s Hawaiian vacation wasn’t.
I picked up my phone.
“I’m calling Jenna.”
Nathan stood.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know what she thinks I agreed to.”
“Leave her out of this.”
“She is literally in Hawaii because of this.”
I called.
Jenna answered by video.
The ocean was behind her.
She grinned when she saw my hospital gown.
“Oh my God! Is it happening?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
Her smile vanished.
I held up the banking app.
“Did Nathan tell you where the money for this trip came from?”
She frowned.
“My brother gave Mom the trip.”
“The eighteen thousand dollars came from the account paying for this hospital, my maternity leave, and our daughter’s first months.”
Jenna froze.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Nathan said you both agreed.”
I looked at him.
He closed his eyes.
“I did not agree.”
Jenna’s expression tightened.
“At this point, Allison, I’m not trying to be rude, but you’re literally about to have a baby.”
Voices and music drifted behind her.
“Please focus on your daughter. And maybe don’t turn this into some huge family fight while Mom is finally getting one good thing.”
The sheer absurdity nearly made me dizzy.
A woman standing on a Hawaiian balcony financed partly by my maternity-leave fund was telling me to protect my peace.
“Jenna, did Nathan tell you the money came from his bonus?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t receive that bonus until December.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
She looked past the camera as if trying to understand.
Then back at Nathan.
“You told me it had already cleared.”
Nathan shifted.
“I said it was covered.”
“You said Allison agreed.”
“I was going to replace it.”
Jenna’s anger moved instantly.
“That is not what you told me.”
Then another notification appeared.
Carol had posted a photograph from dinner.
Sunset behind her.
A flower in her hair.
The caption said:
My son finally made one of my dreams come true. I raised a good man.
For the first time, Nathan looked ashamed.
Then he said something I will never forget.
“Please don’t message Mom tonight.”
I thought I’d misheard.
“What?”
“She’s finally happy.”
I put one hand over Grace beneath the blanket.
“Your mother’s happiness gets protected.”
I looked directly at him.
“My maternity leave gets borrowed from.”
His face collapsed.
Then his phone lit up on the chair.
A message preview appeared.
From Carol.
