The doctor trying to save my life in the delivery room was my ex-husband—the same man who left me pregnant in the rain. What I told him made him stumble back.

but it comes out as a wet cough. I want to remind him that I spent three years fighting for him, fighting for us, until he locked me out in the cold. I want to tell him that I am so tired of fighting.

But then a monitor blares a warning. My blood pressure is tanking.

I blink heavily, my vision narrowing to a tunnel. “Save her,” I slur, the darkness continue reading …