Chapter 6 - The Husband Outside My Locked Door
I was seven months pregnant when Julian appeared outside my apartment.
Security called first.
“Mrs. Vance, your former husband is downstairs.”
“Send him away.”
“He says it concerns Selina.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course it did.
Even after everything, Selina remained the shadow connecting us.
“Tell him to speak to Detective Bennett.”
“He says he already did.”
I should have refused.
Instead, I allowed Julian upstairs.
Two security officers remained outside.
Julian looked nothing like the man from our wedding photographs.
No tailored suit.
No expensive watch.
His hair had grown slightly longer.
There were dark circles beneath his eyes.
He was awaiting trial and living under strict court restrictions after cooperating extensively with investigators.
He had lost Vance Global.
Lost his marriage.
Lost his reputation.
And nearly lost his freedom entirely.
But none of that was my responsibility.
“What do you want?”
He remained near the doorway.
“I remembered something.”
“Tell Maya.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you here?”
His eyes dropped toward my stomach.
I immediately stiffened.
He looked away.
“Because you need to hear it from me.”
I waited.
“Selina once asked about your mother’s cabin.”
I froze.
My mother had owned a small cabin in Vermont.
After she died, it passed to me.
Almost nobody knew about it.
“Why?”
“She asked whether you ever went there when you wanted to be alone.”
“When?”
“Months before the attack.”
“And what did you say?”
His face showed shame.
“That you did.”
Anger rose through me.
“You told her?”
“I didn't understand why she was asking.”
“You never did.”
He accepted that without defending himself.
“Police searched the property this morning.”
My pulse jumped.
“And?”
“They found evidence someone had been there.”
Selina.
The cabin was supposed to be my safest memory.
Now she had contaminated that too.
Julian continued.
“They found photographs.”
“What kind?”
“Of you.”
I stared at him.
“Taken before the attack.”
Selina had been watching me.
Following me.
Fabricating evidence that I was following her while she was actually tracking me.
Julian swallowed.
“There were photographs of your doctor’s office too.”
My hand moved to my stomach.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she knew?”
“Not until today.”
Silence.
Then Julian said the one thing I didn't expect.
“I’m sorry.”
I laughed without humor.
“You've said that.”
“I know.”
“It changes nothing.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to become the wounded man in this story because you finally understand what you did.”
“I know.”
His lack of argument irritated me more than an excuse would have.
“Then stop saying you know.”
He looked at me.
“I don't know what else to say.”
“Nothing.”
That landed.
I watched him absorb it.
Then I said quietly, “You once told me you would kill me for touching Selina.”
His eyes filled.
“I remember every word.”
“I remember too.”
“I wish I could take it back.”
“You can't.”
“I know.”
I pointed toward the door.
“Then go.”
He turned.
Before leaving, he placed something on the entry table.
A small navy box.
My breath caught.
I recognized it.
The baby socks.
The box I had prepared months earlier.
“Where did you find that?”
“In your desk after the police released the house.”
“Why do you have it?”
“I opened it.”
His voice broke.
“I shouldn't have.”
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then he left.
I stared at the box for a long time.
Finally, I opened it.
Two tiny white socks lay inside.
There should have been four.
I almost smiled through my tears.
I had bought them when I thought there was one baby.
Before everything.
Before two heartbeats.
Before blood on the rug.
Before I learned that surviving someone doesn't mean you must continue loving them.
I put the box away.
The following morning, Maya called.
The photographs from the Vermont cabin contained something unexpected.
Reflected in a window behind Selina was a road sign.
Investigators identified the location where one photograph had been printed.
A pharmacy near Albany.
Surveillance footage showed Selina purchasing prepaid phones there two days earlier.
She was moving south.
Toward New York.
Toward me.
Maya wanted to relocate me.
I agreed.
No arguments this time.
My babies mattered more than pride.
A secure medical residence was arranged because I was now too far into a high-risk pregnancy to be moved somewhere without immediate hospital access.
Dr. Reed coordinated everything.
“You're going to hate me,” he said.
“Why?”
“Bed rest.”
“I already hate you.”
“Excellent. That means you'll listen.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
It was the first genuine laugh I could remember in months.
Three nights later, contractions started.
Too early.
I woke at 2:13 a.m. with pressure across my abdomen.
Within minutes, nurses surrounded me.
Dr. Reed arrived.
“Are they coming?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Fear swallowed me.
“Caleb.”
It was the first time I'd called him by his first name.
He took my hand.
“Look at me.”
I did.
“We're going to take care of all three of you.”
Medication slowed the contractions.
The twins stabilized.
By dawn, the danger had eased.
I was exhausted but relieved.
Then Maya walked into the room.
One look at her face erased that relief.
“What happened?”
“We found Selina.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
My blood went cold.
“What do you mean here?”
“In the hospital.”
Security footage showed Selina entering the building disguised in scrubs.
She had used a stolen badge.
The hospital locked down immediately.
Every hallway was searched.
Every exit covered.
But Selina had disappeared somewhere inside.
Maya ordered officers outside my room.
Dr. Reed checked the locks himself.
Hours passed.
Nothing.
At 6:40 that evening, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then darkness.
Emergency lights activated.
An alarm sounded down the corridor.
Smoke.
Someone had deliberately triggered a fire response on another floor.
Security personnel began moving.
Maya shouted into her radio.
I heard footsteps outside.
Then silence.
My door opened.
A woman in medical scrubs stepped inside.
Blonde hair hidden beneath a surgical cap.
Selina locked the door behind her.
She looked at my pregnant stomach.
Then at me.
May you like
And smiled exactly the way she had smiled over Julian’s shoulder while I lay on the rug.
“Hello, Nora.”
