Chapter 3

Wait. The panic in his eyes told me he was about to.

"A glitch in the system," I repeated softly.

I slid my hand, slowly and deliberately, out from under his.

"Then how did the pregnancy timeline — the one someone wrote in by hand — also come out wrong?"

His thumb, which had been tracing my knuckles, stilled.

Three months ago, the day the second little pink line had shown up on the test stick, this man had wept into my hair and sworn — he'd never forget the date as long as he lived.

But on that contract, neither date had anything to do with me.

I waited.

I gave him the chance.

I watched him, hoping he'd give me a reason I could believe.

He didn't speak.

A small, hot tremor crept into my voice before I could stop it.

"It's because the top suite at that place is impossible to get into, isn't it." I wasn't asking anymore.

"That's why you booked so far in advance. That's why you put it under my name."

"You couldn't risk her name showing up anywhere."

"Nina —"

Ethan rose to his feet. He turned away from me, ran a hand through his hair, and stood with his back to the room.

For a long time, he didn't say anything at all.

When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet I almost missed it.

"Her name is Lena. She — she's an intern at the company."

My mind went blank.

Lena.

Lena Moore. Nina Lockwood. Two syllables apart. Almost a joke, if you said them too fast.

"At last year's Christmas party—" His voice was strained now, threaded with something he wanted me to read as shame.

"I'd had too much to drink. She — she's just a girl, Nina. She's under a lot of pressure right now —"

Too much to drink.

I almost laughed.

In three years of marriage, had no one ever bothered to tell my husband that when he drank too much, he physically couldn't get it up?

"After that night," he went on, eyes on the floor,

"she got pregnant. The doctor told her it was twins. She wanted to terminate. I was the one who told her not to. They're — they're two lives, Nina. I couldn't —"

"So she's giving birth at the maternity center," I finished for him.

"Under my name."

He didn't answer.

"That way you can keep playing the devoted husband."

"After all — your wife, Nina Lockwood, really is pregnant."

"Everyone will think I'm the one who gave birth. Your illegitimate children will become legitimate heirs right under their noses."

He flinched, but he didn't deny it.

"You even prepared the cover-up for yourself ahead of time," I said.

"How thoughtful of you." I could feel tears tracking down my cheeks now, hot.

"Nina, I love you. From beginning to end, I've only ever loved you."

He knelt again and took my hands.

"She was an accident. I feel nothing for her. I just—"

"I couldn't let a young girl terminate her pregnancy. It would damage her health. Once the babies are born, she'll leave. I promise."

I looked at him.

This man I'd married three years ago. This man I'd thought, with absolute conviction, I was going to grow old beside.

"You can't stand her having an abortion… so I should have one?"

Something flickered across his face — too fast to name.

And then, slowly, he fell silent.

No more explanations.

No more denials.

No more talk of how much he loved me.

He just knelt there at my feet, head bowed, and said absolutely nothing.

And that silence — God — gutted me.

Because that was the answer.

The answer he'd walked into this room hoping I'd give him myself, so he wouldn't have to be the one to say it out loud.

He didn't want my baby.