The Last Time He Got It Wrong
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Summary
When my water broke, I found out my husband, Damian Keats, had given away my private maternity suite to his childhood friend Sienna Lowe, because she had a stomachache.
The top-tier medical team I'd arranged became an overflow bed in a drafty hallway without so much as a curtain around it.
He was pouring warm water for Sienna when I said something about it, and he didn't even turn his head.
"I got the name on the booking wrong. She's already settled in, so just make do out there for one night."
I got it wrong. I'd been listening to that sentence for five years.
