It's All or Nothing

I'm in the hills for a project inspection when a sudden downpour hits. I lose my footing and tumble down a steep slope.

Lying in a pool of blood, I fumble for my phone and call my husband, Joel Grant, who's supposed to be nearby.

"Rachel has anxiety. I only brought her back to her hometown to help her unwind. Can you stop being so paranoid and jealous for once? You're due in two weeks. I'll be there, okay? Just behave."

In the background, I hear Rachel giggle softly. "The models have to be in their birthday suit for sketching, right?"

Joel hangs up without another word.

My sister-in-law—and best friend—Chloe Murphy finds me. She's sobbing as she cradles me, desperately trying to call her husband, Michael Grant, for help.

"Are all pregnant women insane these days?" Michael snaps. "Don't start with the same manipulative crap as Anna. Joel and I are busy modeling for Rachel. We don't have time for your petty dramas."

Then he blocks her.

My injuries are too severe. There's no way help will arrive in time.

Despite being heavily pregnant herself, Chloe hoists me onto her back and carries me down the mountain to the nearest hospital.

Somehow, I survive. My baby doesn't.

Chloe, devastated and physically pushed past her limits, loses her child too.

"I want a divorce," I whisper with my eyes swollen from crying.

"Me too. I'm done with Michael."

We filed for divorce together.

That's when Joel and Michael finally lose their minds.

I had barely hit send on the divorce message when Joel Grant called.

"Anna, just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you get to be unreasonable all the time. I have feelings too, you know.

"You're a heiress born into money. You're used to being around those kinds of people—cheaters, mistresses, that whole world.

"But don't project your dirty assumptions onto me just because your circle's rotten. Rachel is like a sister to me. She's been struggling with anxiety, and I only brought her on this trip to help her clear her head.

"And even if I'm looking out for my sister, that doesn't make me a bad husband. You're due in two weeks. I'll be back in time. Why are you making such a fuss over something so minor?"

Joel said it like he genuinely believed he was the victim here.

My blood boiled. "I fell down a hill, Joel. I lost the baby. I almost died. If that's a minor matter, then what the hell would you call a major one?"

"Come on, Anna. Stop using your jealousy over Rachel to test me again and again. You know how much I care about you and the baby, but you keep pushing like this. It's cruel."

He had the audacity to guilt-trip me? If he actually gave a damn, why wasn't he there when I was hanging on by a thread, fighting for my life?

I was shaking with rage. "Enough. Come back. I want a divorce!"

"You need to watch your emotions. You're pregnant. I'm not arguing with you. Just wait at the hospital and stop letting your imagination run wild. Rachel's hungry. I'm making dinner."

And just like yesterday, when I begged his help, Joel stayed calm and hung up.

Meanwhile, I sat there clutching our baby's lifeless body, breaking down in gut-wrenching sobs.

My best friend, Chloe Murphy, cried until she passed out. She used her mom's phone to call her husband, Michael Grant, only to get yelled at.

"You two must be something else if you managed to piss off Joel. He's the nicest guy I know.

"If you're that good at acting, maybe you should quit teaching and hit the stage with Anna. Rachel doesn't like being disturbed during meals, so stop calling.

"One more time and I'll block your whole family."

To them—Joel and Michael—Chloe and I were just two jealous women causing drama. They didn't care that we had just given birth to stillborns.

People from both the Brooklyn and Murphy families came as they were worried sick about us.

But Joel and Michael were the only ones who didn't show.

On the day of the funeral, Chloe still refused to give up. She tried calling Michael, but by then, he had blocked everyone even remotely connected to her.

I called Joel more than ten times before he finally picked up.

"It's not even your due date, so why are you calling again? I just got Rachel to sleep, and now you've woken her up. When are you going to stop acting like a spoiled brat?"

I forced myself to stay calm. "Today is our son's funeral. And our nephew's. I told you and Michael before. Come now."

That got under his skin. "Anna, is there no line you won't cross because of your pettiness? You've cursed our son again and again. Don't you think that's bad luck?"

My fury was so intense that it swallowed my voice.

Chloe yanked the phone from my hands and snapped, "No mother jokes about their baby! The funeral is at 182 Oak Road. If you and Michael have even a shred of doubt, come and see for yourself!"