I came home with our baby’s ultrasound in my hand—and found my husband hurriedly pulling on his pants while my best friend hid behind my maternity coats.

me.

I looked straight at Claire.

“Were all six visits for the baby shower?”

Silence followed.

Owen picked up the page.

On the first date, Claire had told him she was helping her mother. On another, she’d said she was working late. Two entries lined up with afternoons she’d texted me from inside my own kitchen, asking how the baby was doing while I sat alone continue reading …