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A lash of panic whipped my back.

I snorted to hide the ball of tears in my throat and stepped over him. “Trust me, no part of me wants to be an elaborate oopsie that snowballed into a scandal.”

He stood, following me. “You’re not a mistake, and you’re not a scandal.”

“Are you going to tuck me and the baby somewhere far away?” I wrapped myself in one of his lush towels. “Send us a check every month?”

He scowled, drying off. “That’s not what I meant.”

But I didn’t stick around to find out.

“Farrow.” His footsteps came from behind me, gaining speed. “Don’t run away from me.”

Then, convince me to stay. End your engagement. Tell me I matter.

He did no such thing.

I stumbled into the hallway, rushing to my room.

If he saw my face, he’d see the tears. The pain. The confusion.

Because what happened in his bathtub didn’t feel like sex.

It felt like making love.

“Farrow,wait.”

I slammed the door in his face.

Hoping my heart could lock, too.

The next morning, the universe showed off its twisted sense of humor.

I returned home from Walgreens, popping Plan B onto my tongue and guzzling it down with clearance orange juice, a day from its expiration.

But as soon as I stepped out of my Prius, the telltale trickle of my period slid down my thigh.

“Goddammit.”

By the time I finished showering away the blood, my mood had taken a nosedive. I descended the stairs, ready to raid the kitchen for something sweet and decadent.

Zach drifted down the halls somewhere, surely marching like a demon looking for his pound of flesh. I’d managed to dodge him all morning and planned to do so into the evening.

My phone buzzed with another text, probably from Zach.

Still, I checked it just in case, frowning at the name that flashed.

Andras:

Tomorrow. Same time.

I careened to a stop, wondering how to reply.

This marked our first contact since the news broke about my cheating scandal. I figured he needed time to process the news before unceremoniously dumping me, along with his dreams of fostering an Olympic gold medalist.

In the end, I settled for something simple.

Farrow:

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