I Was 8 Months Pregnant When My Husband Traded Our Family for a Fitness Model – The Gift I Sent to Their Wedding Altar Left the Guests in Total Shock
Tilly and Norman arrived that evening.
I almost told them not to come. Then Sophie threw up on the hallway rug, Marcus couldn’t find his math packet, and Wren rolled across my ribs like she was trying to exit through my side.
By the time his parents stepped into the kitchen, Mary was stirring pasta, Phoebe was asleep at the table, George was cutting apples, and unpaid bills were spread beside a half-finished spelling worksheet.
“He told me it was our account…”
Tilly stopped in the doorway.
“Darling, you’ve been alone with all of this?”
I shifted my weight against the counter. “I’ve had the children.”
Norman’s eyes went to the stack of bills. “Has he sent anything?”
“I’m handling it.”
Tilly looked at me sharply. “That wasn’t the question, Savannah.”
Then Sophie woke up crying, and Margot lifted her without missing a beat, and something in me gave way.
“I’m handling it.”
“No,” I said. “He emptied the account.”
Norman went pale.
Tilly looked toward the hallway, where the unfinished crib was still visible through the nursery door. “He left you like this?”
“Apparently,” I said, “peace couldn’t wait.”
***
That night, Norman fixed the crib in silence while Tilly unpacked groceries she’d “just happened to buy too much of.”
She lined up milk, bread, pasta, apples, and diapers like stopping would make her cry.
“He emptied the account.”
