“Where’s the baby’s father? I called him to come take care of you,” the doctor asked. 

Claire blinked, her voice weak. “The baby doesn’t have a father.” 

The doctor frowned. “That can’t be right. You’re married, aren’t you? But I’ve never seen your husband at any of your checkups. And now, with something this serious? Nothing?” 

Claire froze. It hit her: every single prenatal appointment, she’d been alone. 

When she first told Finley she was pregnant, he acted thrilled. Promised he’d come to the first ultrasound. But then Renee showed up. 

From that moment, it was like Claire didn’t exist. Every time she mentioned a checkup, he dodged her, always too busy. She knew where he really was—spending time with Renee. 

She stayed quiet for the baby’s sake. But now? The baby was gone. So was her reason to keep enduring this. 

She was done. Seven years of chasing him, and she had nothing left. 

“If no one’s here to handle this, you’ll need to sort out the payment,” the doctor said, handing her a form. 

Claire pushed the blanket aside, forcing herself out of bed. 

And then she saw them. 

Finley. And Renee. 

He was hovering over her, his arm steadying her. When he saw Claire, he stepped in front of Renee, protective. 

“You followed us here?” Finley snapped. “Renee’s hand is already hurt—what more do you want?” 

His words hit like ice. 

“Don’t talk to Claire like that,” Renee murmured, leaning against him. “I’m sure she’s just here to apologize.” She smiled faintly at Claire. “It’s okay. I’m not blaming you.” 

“If you’re here to apologize,” Finley said, “go get Renee something to eat. Her hand’s injured, and she needs to rest.” 

Claire glanced at Renee’s hand. Barely red. Seriously? Meanwhile, she’d just lost her baby, and no one cared. 

Her heart felt ache, but she forced a brittle smile, even as her vision blurred. 

Words caught in her throat, but Finley noticed something off. He frowned, his tone shifting. “What now? All I’m asking is for you to apologize and get Renee some food. Is that really so hard?”