“I’m serious!” she cried, clutching her stomach as another contraction hit. “Greg, please — we have to get to the hospital!”
Instead of panic or concern, fury filled his face. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“You knew how important this day was for my mother,” he snapped. “You just couldn’t let her have it, could you? You always have to ruin everything!”
Her voice trembled. “Greg, this isn’t about your mother! It’s about our child!”
But he wasn’t listening. His eyes were wild with anger.
Then, before she could comprehend what he was doing, Greg threw the car into park, stepped out, and yanked open her door. The freezing air hit her face like a slap.
“Greg, stop! What are you doing?” she cried.
He grabbed her hospital bag from the backseat and tossed it into the snow. “You’ve already made me late,” he said flatly. “Figure it out yourself.”
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