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An unknown number.
A picture.
A snapshot of betrayal.
It's Logan with Gina. They're kissing. In a park.
My hands shake as I grip the phone tighter. I hurl the phone onto the table, the picture of Logan and Gina mocking me.
"Bailey, what's wrong?"
I can only point to my phone, the picture displayed on the cracked screen.
"Isn't that... Logan?" she stammers, her eyes wide with horror. "And that woman... Isn’t she the blonde from the farmer’s market?"
I nod, tears blurring my vision. Despite the fact that he left me alone after telling him I'm carrying his baby, the entire story he told me... was a lie? A cover-up? Why else would he be kissing Gina in public?
I feel like a fucking idiot for believing him. What kind of theatrics was this?
"Logan told me this whole elaborate story... about Gina and Ethan, his deranged brother, how they set him up." I point to the picture on the screen, the evidence of his betrayal glaring back at us. "But this photo says it all."
I slam my palm on the table, my anger flaring. "He lied to me, Rach. All those sob stories... all lies." I stare at the photo. "And I believe him, trusted him... and for what? This?" A fresh wave of tears well up, but I blink them back. "It doesn't matter anyway. He left me... alone with this baby. I am done with the tears. He's not worth it."
Rachel is speechless. After a moment, she reaches across the table, and takes my hands in hers. "Bailey... I… I don’t know what to say… but I want you to know that no matter what, you're going to get through this."
"I can't do it anymore, Rach... I can't work there anymore. I can't keep ties to him and his family, pretending like everything's fine when it's not. I'm going to quit my job, Rach. I'm done. Done with Logan, done with the lies, done with the pain. I'm just... done."
"But Bailey...you've worked so hard for this job. Think about all those late nights, the sacrifice, the dedication... Maybe... Maybe you should wait until things calm down then you can make a decision." She gives my hands a comforting squeeze.
I shake my head.
Right now, all I want to do is run further away.
30
LOGAN
Islip into the leather seats of my matte black Lamborghini. I'm not used to driving. I usually have a chauffeur for that. But I need to escape, to feel the control slip through my fingers and watch the world blur around me.
I rev the engine, the purr of power floods into my veins. The rush of adrenaline, making me forget about my life.
My hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. I weave through traffic, each vehicle I pass is a blur, like my thoughts. It takes me away from the overwhelming reality, from the crushing weight of the news that Bailey is pregnant.
What the fuck?
Bailey is pregnant.
Panic hits me. I'm terrified of being a father, of being responsible for another life. It's fucking terrifying.
It wasn't part of the plan.
I'm not ready.
I was never ready.
But as I speed on the freeway, her face flashes in my mind.
Bailey.
