"Cicely, do I not look good?"
"It feels a little tight around the waist."
Her gaze went soft in an instant.
"You look wonderful. Don't change a thing."
"You look good in anything."
"Tonight, wear this and wait for me in bed."
When the video call ended, I held out the separation agreement.
"Cicely, there's something I need to—"
She finally seemed to remember I was still standing there.
She reached up and touched my face.
"Gilbert, once I get through this busy stretch, we'll go to the amusement park."
I looked at her and smiled, faintly. "There's no need."
She didn't understand.
She had no time to understand.
Because another voice message came in from Connor.
This time it was the child's small, milky voice.
"Mommy, when are you coming?"
"Daddy says we're taking a family photo today."
Cicely froze for a heartbeat.
She looked up at me, a flicker of panic in her eyes.
But she smothered it almost at once.
"Gilbert, I have to step out for a bit."
I watched her snatch up her coat.
Watched her leave without so much as glancing down at the agreement on the table.
The moment the door closed, I slipped it back into my bag.
There was no point anymore.
At nine the next morning, I arrived at the hospital right on time.
Just before I signed the destruction paperwork, my phone buzzed.
A message from Connor.
"Gilbert, my wife was all over me last night like she'd lost her mind."
"In the heat of it she dug up some safety knot from somewhere and tied it on me, kissing me until her eyes went red."
A photo followed.
A hotel suite, underthings scattered across the floor.
The safety knot tossed carelessly by the bed.
The red cord crumpled out of shape, smeared with the evidence of what they'd done.
I had woven it for Cicely with my own hands.
Through all my months of convalescing, I'd unpicked it and woven it again.
I stared at that photo, and the tears finally slid from the corners of my eyes.
So my love, my prayers, the peace I had begged for in the snowy mountains.
In their eyes, it was nothing but a toy to liven up their bed.
I signed my name on the destruction confirmation.
Those frozen samples would be disposed of soon.
Just like the place inside me that Cicely had once filled.
At three that afternoon, I boarded a flight overseas.
I'd left in such a rush that the folder of medical records and test results stayed behind at the hospital.
The nurse couldn't reach me, so she called the emergency contact on the chart.
When the call connected, it was loud on the other end.
The nurse hesitated, then spoke anyway.
"Hello, is this Ms. Sanchez?"
"Mr. Winfield just signed the paperwork to terminate the fertility plan and destroy the samples."
"He left some belongings at the hospital. Could you come collect them when you have a moment?"
