Twenty minutes later Zariah burst in. Hood up. Face flushed. She saw me. Saw Eli. Crossed the room in three steps. Hugged us both.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “This is my fault.”
“No.” I pulled back. “It’s not. I got drunk. I said yes. I....”
“You trusted me. And I let you walk into this.”
We sat on the couch. Eli between us. Headphones back on. Watching trains. Safe in his bubble. The soft mechanical clacking from his video filled the quiet spaces between our breathing.
Zariah took my hand. “What did Cal say?”
“‘Fuck.’ Then he left.”
She cursed under her breath. “Asshole.”
“He’s always been like that. I just… I thought maybe after one month he’d at least pretend to care.”
“He’s scared.”
“I don’t care if he’s scared. I’m terrified. Eli’s terrified. And now there’s a baby.”
She squeezed my hand. “You’re not alone. Okay? You have me. You have Eli. We’ll figure this out.”
I looked at the ring. Still there. Still mocking me.
“What happens now?” I asked.
Zariah exhaled. “Ron’s going to lose his mind. The annulment plan’s dead. They’ll want to spin this. ‘Happy family’ or some bullshit.”
“I can’t pretend anymore.”
“You won’t have to. Not forever.”
Eli pulled one headphone off. “Is Zariah staying?”
Zariah smiled at him. “Yeah, kid. I’m staying.”
He nodded. Put the headphone back.
I stared at the ceiling. Hand on my stomach. Flat still. But not for long. I tried to imagine a future that didn’t feel like quicksand pulling me under. A crib. Tiny clothes. A crying newborn in a hotel suite that never felt like home.
The annulment was dead.
The lie was dead.
And Cal?
He was still the same asshole who walked away when things got real.
I whispered to myself, so quiet only I could hear:
“What the fuck am I going to do?”
No one answered.
But deep down, I already knew.
Nothing was going to be simple ever again.
