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Is she trying to get pregnant? Is she trying to trap me? Fuck me.

“What are you doing?”

I whirl around at her question and point to the pregnancy tests on the kitchen counter. “What are you doing?”

She throws up her arms. “I was late, okay? I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and rang Indigo who hurried me off to White Bridge to take these tests. I should have thrown them away at the drugstore.”

I growl. “And then you would have never had to tell me.”

She shakes her finger at me. “Don’t you dare growl at me, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

Usually, I find her little pet names for me adorable. I’m not finding anything adorable today.

“Were you going to tell me any of this?”

“Um, grumpy dude, I just did.”

“After I confronted you and forced it out of you.”

“I just got home.”

“And you didn’t tell me you were going to White Bridge either.”

“I told you. I panicked.”

“You’re just like Vicki.”

She gasps. “I am not Vicki. I’m not pregnant, asshole.”

I motion to the counter. “But you’re trying to get pregnant. You want to trap me. Are you even on the pill?”

Her jaw drops open as she stares at me in surprise. What? She thought I wouldn’t figure it out. I’m just a dumb bass player in a band. I’m too stupid to realize when a woman is using me.

“I don’t recognize you right now.”

“Didn’t stop you from trying to trap me, though, did it?”

“Trap you? Trap you?” she screeches.

“You get pregnant. I marry you. You don’t ever have to worry about money again. No more single mom. No more working. You’d have the easy life.”

“You really think those things of me?”

I motion to the counter again. “I have all the proof I need.”

Her bottom lip trembles and a lone tear travels down her cheek. I fist my hands before I reach for her. This is a show. She isn’t sad. She’s pretending.

She inhales a deep breath and her nostrils flare. “Get out.”

“Gladly.”

“And don’t you ever come near me or my kid again, you fucking asshole.”

“I’m the asshole? I’m not the one who’s trying to trap an innocent man.”

“I can’t believe I ever thought I loved you. All men are the same. You’re just like Charles. Saying pretty words until you get me in bed. And once you have your fill of me, your true self comes out.”

I grit my teeth. “Don’t blame this on me. I’m not the asshole here.”

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