Chapter 3

I ate the food Sophie made me slowly, savoring every bite as if it were a five-course meal. She'd really gotten better at cooking over the years. After all this time, I'd never once gotten tired of her pasta.

She leaned against my shoulder and started explaining everything.

"I had too much to drink that night. He was covering for me, taking my drinks, and then we both ended up wasted. It all happened so fast, and I didn't have time to tell you.

"I only found out I was pregnant about a month ago. He's been really good to me, really attentive. I told him I'm not getting a divorce, and he said he doesn't mind.

"After a while, I realized that having a baby might actually be a good thing. When I got the confirmation, I was so happy. I decided to keep it."

Sophie's hand drifted to her stomach, still flat, and she rubbed it gently.

She looked at me again. "We could raise the baby together, watch her grow up together. We could—"

"Sophie," I said, cutting her off. "That's not my child."

I'd already lost any chance of being a father, and here she was painting me a future with someone else's baby. There was no crueler thing she could have said to me.

Even without the baby, what happened between her and Dylan was something I could never accept. I wasn't stupid. I knew exactly what Dylan was after.

Drunk and out of control? There was no such thing. That was just the excuse Dylan fed her, or maybe it was the excuse she was feeding me.

"Maybe you could try thinking of the baby as yours," Sophie said, still patient and coaxing.

"And what about Dylan?" I needed to know what she planned to do about the other man.

She actually laughed, like I'd said something silly. "Oh, is that what you're worried about?"

She took my hand. "Relax. I'm not going to leave you, and I'm definitely not going to divorce you for him. All I care about is this baby."

I stared at her, half-believing, half-doubting, and tried to force myself to take her at her word. Then her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen, didn't answer, and hung up.

"Stay home and rest. Don't overthink things, okay?" She stood up to leave.

I wanted to try one last time. "Soph, could you do this for me? Don't keep the baby. Medicine has come so far now. Maybe we could still have a chance to have our own kids someday. We could—"

She cut me off. "That's enough, Miles. Stop being ridiculous."

Impatience crept into her voice. "This isn't up for discussion. I'm having this baby."

I let go of her hand. "Okay. I get it. Just come back soon."

She didn't say anything else. A moment later, the apartment was empty again, and it was just me.

Sophie thought I hadn't seen the screen, but I saw it perfectly clearly. The caller was Dylan.

She was rushing out to see him. That was all there was to it.

After that, Sophie stopped pretending. She spent more and more nights away from home. But she still called me every day, reminding me to eat, telling me to take care of myself.

I didn't know what to feel anymore. Everything was tangled up inside me, bitter and confused and raw. The only thing I could think to do was go out drinking with a friend.

"I've never seen you two fight. I thought things were always great between you guys."

I laughed bitterly and couldn't think of a single thing to say back.

My friend was right. Things had always been great. She gave me her promises. She gave me her word.

She just happened to be carrying another man's child.

The bitterness in my glass hit a little harder after that.