“Liam, please. I think the baby is coming.”
He let out an impatient eye roll. “Audrey, stop making this so dramatic.”
Those words felt even colder than fear itself.
I was thirty-eight weeks pregnant. My physician had warned both of us that my blood pressure remained dangerously unstable. She had told Liam directly that if I experienced severe pain or any bleeding, I needed immediate transportation to the hospital.
Now perspiration drenched my dress, my legs trembled beneath me, and every nerve in my body warned that something was horribly wrong.
Liam grabbed his car keys. “You always pull this,” he snapped. “You turn everything into an emergency the moment my family needs me. You can wait a couple of hours.”
Then he walked away.
One second later, an electronic chime echoed through the house. Liam had used the app on his phone to engage the deadbolt from outside. He had locked me inside so I couldn’t follow him.
