Chapter 2 - Flight 417
Emma was through security at JFK before Nathan's first call reached her phone.
She watched his name flash across the screen.
Once.
Twice.
Seven times.
She turned the phone facedown on the plastic airport table.
"You gonna answer that?" asked the elderly woman beside her.
Emma looked at the ultrasound picture in her lap. "Not tonight."
She had no grand plan.
Only a destination Nathan would never choose for her: Newport, Oregon. Rain, ocean, gray skies, and an apartment above a small bookstore owned by her college friend Mara Greene.
At the gala, Nathan was losing his mind.
"Where did she go?" he demanded into the driver's phone.
"JFK, sir."
"Which terminal?"
"She asked me not to say."
Nathan stared at the screen.
Olivia stood nearby, arms crossed. "She wants you to chase her."
He turned slowly. "What did you just say?"
"Emma has always known how to make you feel guilty."
"You don't know my wife."
Olivia's mouth tightened. "I know more than you think."
That sentence followed him home.
At 3:10 a.m., Nathan walked into the penthouse and found half of Emma's closet empty.
Her jewelry remained.
The framed wedding photo remained.
Her grandmother's china remained.
Nathan sat on the edge of the bed.
Then he saw the envelope near her nightstand.
His name was written across the front.
Inside was a card.
I wanted tonight to remind us why we built all of this.
Nothing else.
He read it three times.
Then his eyes caught a white slip partly hidden beneath the lamp.
Manhattan Maternal-Fetal Medicine.
Patient: Emma Whitmore.
Ultrasound.
Prenatal screening.
Gestational age: seventeen weeks, six days.
Nathan stopped breathing.
"No."
He grabbed the paper with both hands.
"No, no, no."
Their baby.
After everything they had lost, Emma was pregnant again.
And she had walked into that ballroom carrying the news while he had been dancing with another woman.
Nathan dropped to the floor.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Olivia.
You need to calm down. This could still work in your favor.
Nathan stared at the words.
Then another message appeared.
May you like
She left you. Stop pretending you're the bad guy.
For the first time, Nathan wondered how long Olivia had been waiting for this.
