I Craved Crawfish, but He Fed It All to My Sister Chapter 01

I Craved Crawfish, but He Fed It All to My Sister Chapter 01

It was Valentine’s night, and my morning sickness was so brutal I could barely stand. But the only thing I wanted was the Cajun crawfish boil they sold in limited batches across town.

My husband, Derek Sterling, stood in triple-digit heat for three hours just to get it.

But by the time he came home, five pounds of crawfish had turned into a sad little pile. The container was stuffed with shells and empty heads.

“Ran into your sister on the way. She hadn’t eaten, so I gave her some.”

“You’ve been puking all day. You weren’t gonna eat much anyway. Stop making this a thing.”

And of course, my phone lit up at that exact moment. My sister Maren Vance, the one I’d set to special notifications, had just posted.

The photo showed a full plate of peeled crawfish tails arranged on a white porcelain dish. In the corner of the frame, I saw the wrist wearing the anniversary watch I’d given Derek.

The caption read: [Valentine’s with the one who actually gets me. He’s never once let me peel my own crawfish.]

So those three hours in the sweltering heat had never been for me at all.

My baby and I were just the excuse he tossed out when he finally came home with leftovers after spending Valentine’s with her.

My stomach heaved violently. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until tears streamed down my face.

When I came back, I dumped the crawfish heads, the empty shells, and the whole container into the trash. Then I picked up my phone and texted my doctor to schedule the procedure.

***

“You’re fourteen weeks along. We can hear the heartbeat now.”

“Ending a pregnancy isn’t something to take lightly. Go home and think it over.”

The doctor looked at my test results.

“You also have moderate anemia, and your inflammation markers are elevated. I can’t do the procedure yet.”

“We need to get the infection under control first. The earliest we can admit you is five days from now.”

I adjusted my clothes. “I know.”

“Your husband didn’t come with you?”

“He’s busy.”

I left the exam room and went downstairs alone for the fetal heartbeat monitoring.

The nurse had just handed me the printout when Derek came charging down the corridor with Maren in his arms.

His shirt was soaked through. The panic on his face took me back to three years ago, when my appendix burst and he carried me into the ER after blowing through two red lights.

Back then, he’d grabbed the doctor by the sleeve, his voice shaking.

“Save her first. Whatever happens, I’ll take responsibility.”

I moved out of the way without thinking.

Derek’s shoulder slammed into me, and my printouts scattered across the floor.

Maren, curled in his arms, had nothing but a small bandage on her wrist.

“Derek, I’m fine. I just cut myself opening a package.”

“You’re bleeding and you call that nothing?”

Derek frowned. The next second, he stepped on my fetal heartbeat monitor strip. The card cracked into pieces.

I braced myself against the wall and called his name. Derek finally turned around. When he saw how pale I was, his expression stiffened.

Maren let out a soft gasp.

“It hurts.”

Derek immediately tightened his hold.

“Go sit down and wait for me.”

“Maren’s afraid of scarring. I’ll take her to get it treated, then come find you.”

“Derek.”

I bent down and picked up the ruined printout. “That was our baby’s test results. You stepped on them.”

He glanced down, and his frown actually eased. “Just print another one. Maren’s cut can’t wait.”

“Right. If we don’t get her to a doctor soon, the wound might heal on its own.”

Derek’s face darkened.

“Sloane, your sister has always been fragile.”

“You really need to pick a fight with her at a hospital?”

Maren grabbed his collar and whispered.

“Maybe she’s not feeling well either. Don’t be so hard on her.”

The more she tried to smooth things over, the colder Derek’s eyes became when he looked at me.

“Go get your tests done. I’ll pick you up later.”

Then he carried Maren into the ER.

The nurse pointed at the printout. “Do you need me to reprint it?”

I shook my head. “No.”

By the time I got home, Derek still wasn’t back.

I pulled open the nightstand drawer to grab my ID and bank cards, but the silver ring I kept in the very back was gone.

That ring was what Derek gave me when he was at his poorest.

We were living in a leaking basement back then. After he got his first paycheck, he crossed half the city to buy a plain silver band that weighed less than two grams.

The ring was cheap. The inside still had a rough scratch that hadn’t been polished smooth.

He slipped it onto my finger with the same seriousness as if he were putting on a million-dollar diamond.

“Sloane, when we have real money, I’m getting you the biggest diamond I can find.”

I pulled my hand back. “I want this one.”

Derek lowered his head and kissed the band.

“Then we’ll never replace it.”

The front door opened.

I walked out with the empty ring box in my hand. Derek was shrugging off his coat, and behind him stood Maren, a silver camellia brooch pinned to her chest.

“Where’s the ring?”

Derek followed my gaze and understood immediately.

“Maren has an important gala tonight. Her dress needed one more accessory.”

“She liked the ring, so I had it melted down and made into a brooch.”

He slid a new jewelry box toward me.

Inside was a diamond ring.

“Your hands are too swollen for the old ring. I always said I’d get you something better.”

“This one’s bigger. It’ll do for now.”

I didn’t take it. “I only want the original one.”

“It’s already melted. How am I supposed to give it back?”

“Why didn’t you ask me before touching it?”

Derek paused. “It’s just an old ring.”

“If you want, I’ll buy you ten more.”

Maren unpinned the brooch and held it out to me.

“Sloane, I didn’t know it meant that much to you. Should I take it apart now and have it remade into a ring for you?”

I stared at the camellia.

The silver was still the same silver. But it hadn’t been the ring I knew for a long time now.

“Keep it.”

I closed the empty box and dropped it in the trash.

Derek’s breath caught. “Sloane, stop throwing a fit.”

“After the gala, I’ll have someone remake it exactly like the original.”

“Exactly like the original?”

I looked up at him.

“Do you even remember what the original looked like?”

Derek opened his mouth. No answer came out.

Back in my room, I opened the hospital appointment page.

The assistant confirmed again. “You’re sure you want to schedule the termination?”

I pressed confirm. “I’m sure.”