The pharmacist told me the total.
I checked my balance.
Then I checked again.
I did not have enough.
I returned to the car without everything Chloe needed and sat behind the steering wheel for several minutes.
Eric’s number was still saved in my phone.
I stared at his name longer than I want to admit.
Then I called.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“What?”
No hello. No question about the baby.
I kept my voice steady.
“Chloe needs another breathing treatment. I can’t cover all of it today. You took the savings, and I need you to help.”
Eric sighed as if I had interrupted something important.
“She has two parents,” I continued.
There was a pause.
Then he said, “You wanted to keep her. You handle it.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“She’s your daughter.”
“I’m not doing this, Claire.”
“She needs you.”
“Ask somebody else.”
“Eric, please.”
His answer came cold and immediate.
“Ask someone who actually wants to deal with this.”
Then the call ended.
I should have driven home.
Part of me knew that.
But exhaustion can make you cling to strange hopes. I convinced myself that maybe a phone made it too easy for him to be detached. Maybe if he actually saw Chloe, something inside him would finally respond.
So I drove to the address I had for him.
Chloe was in her carrier when I walked to the door.
A woman named Tessa answered.
She was wearing one of Eric’s shirts.
Her eyes moved to the carrier, then back to me.
“Eric,” she called. “Claire’s here.”
He appeared behind her looking annoyed.
I lifted the carrier slightly.
“Please look at your daughter.”
He did, but only briefly.
“I’m not asking for anything for myself,” I said. “Her treatment is expensive.”
“I have a life now.”
“So does she.”
He looked away.
“Stop coming here.”
Tessa folded her arms.
I waited for Eric to soften.
He didn’t.
The door closed.
I stood on the porch listening to Chloe make small noises inside the carrier, and something inside me finally became quiet.
Not destroyed.
Not defeated.
Finished.
For weeks, I had been trying to make Eric remember that we mattered.
I stopped trying.
When I reached home, my neighbor June helped me carry Chloe upstairs.
“Do you need anything?” she asked.
My usual answer almost escaped automatically.
