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“Oh, you’re right,” he said silkily in a dark tone that did not sound like that of a man happy to find out he was going to be father. “Why not continue faking our relationship no matter what? Should be easy. We’ve been doing it this long, pretending we like each other for the camera. What’s an unexpected pregnancy between friends?”
There was nothing friendly about his sarcasm, and his point cut through her. He’d been faking it this whole time. While she’d been fighting her feelings and trying not to fall for him, he hadn’t been engaged in a similar battle. She’d created a fantasy in her head because he’d given her a few intense looks during sex.
Nothing about their relationship was real. Hadn’t she learned that lesson by now? She should have. The pain radiating through her chest was exactly what she deserved for daring to pretend they’d been building something neither of them could walk away from.
“My mistake,” she said, proud of how substantial her voice sounded when in reality, her insides felt hollowed out. Fitting that she could fake even this. “I misspoke. It seems as if it might be best if we ended our public relationship. The sooner the better, so we have time to work on a recovery plan.”
“And our private one, too.” Then he twisted the knife in farther before she had a chance to fully process that. “That’s why you didn’t tell me, I’m guessing. You knew it would be the end of us and opted to keep the devastation to a minimum.”
Miserably, she nodded and shut her eyes against the blackness spreading across Logan’s face. At the end of the day, that was the gist of it. She hadn’t told him out of pure selfishness. She’d eventually miscarry anyway and there’d be nothing holding them together. But even that had been imaginary, because there was nothing holding them together now, either, apparently.
Why not let him leave now instead of then? It was a simple matter of timing.
Obviously he didn’t want her or the baby. Or maybe he didn’t want the baby strictly because it was hers. Hadn’t he always said she wasn’t his type? They were ill suited for each other. That was why he’d always asked her to dress differently, after all.
“I can’t do this now, either,” he growled. “Congratulations. You’ve successfully provoked my temper. I have to get out of here.”
She scuttled out of the doorway so he could stride from the bathroom. Without a backward glance, he stormed from her condo and took the majority of her heart with him.
The only piece left was tucked in next to the fetus still growing in her womb. For now. She lived in fear of the day she’d wake up in her own blood and know that she was once again alone.
* * *
Trinity forced herself to lie in the bed she’d made, continuing to go to work and do her job, but it was far more rote than she would like to admit. Her body hurt all the time and her creativity fled along with her ability to feel anything other than miserable. Thankfully, she’d gotten far enough along in the Bloom campaign that her creative team could run with it.
Logan didn’t call. She kept her phone in her hand constantly and cursed every time it buzzed and there wasn’t a message from him.
Funny how when he’d been trying to reach her after returning from New York, each contact point had sliced through her and she’d prayed he’d stop, that he’d leave her alone to figure out how to manage this huge, terrible secret between them.
Now that he had actually broken off all communication, each moment of silence cut even deeper. He really wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. Nor would he be a strong hand to hold when she miscarried. He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, and that was perhaps the worst realization of all.
Late one afternoon, Trinity roused herself out of her stupor to help Harper and Alex throw a baby shower for Cass. It was good for her to stop stewing over things she couldn’t change, and it was definitely better to quit dwelling on what had not yet happened, which she had zero control over. Plus, Cass was her best friend, no matter how distant they’d been lately.
Maybe it was time to change that.
Harper flew in from Zurich for the occasion and coupled the trip with some on-site meetings with her lab staff. Alex’s twin girls weren’t technically due for another six weeks, but her doctor in Washington was convinced she’d deliver any day now, so she participated remotely. As soon as she had her babies, Fyra’s CFO would take six months maternity leave.
Once, Trinity would have labeled that ludicrous and pretended a woman’s career should trump everything else. When really, it was solely Trinity who had grabbed on to her job with both hands in lieu of seeking what her friends seemed to fall into so easily—a supportive relationship with a husband who loved his wife and couldn’t wait to be a father.
