Chapter 2

I sat in the parking garage for forty minutes, staring at the message.

Eight weeks. That meant the charity gala night — the one time Callum came home drunk and stumbled into my room instead of his own.

I remembered his hands, clumsy but warm. His voice, ragged against my neck: "Why do you always smell so good…"

The next morning, he was gone before I woke. He never mentioned it. I assumed he didn't remember.

Now I was carrying the evidence.

My thumb hovered over Callum's name in my contacts. I could tell him. One call, and everything would change.

But then I imagined the look on his face — not joy, but calculation. He'd think I planned it. A trap to keep him tied to me.

Amber would cry and say, "She's trying to steal you from me."

And Callum would believe her. He always believed her.

I deleted the message and called my doctor.

"I'm keeping it," I said before she could ask. "But I need complete confidentiality. No one can know."

After hanging up, I drove to the only place that still felt safe — Grandma Rose's estate outside the city.

Grandma was sitting in her garden, feeding her koi fish, looking healthier than most people half her age.

"Seren!" Her face lit up. "You look thin. Sit down. Maria, bring soup!"

I sat beside her and almost broke right there.

This woman — fierce, perceptive, and stubbornly loving — was the only person in Callum's world who treated me like a human being.

"Grandma, I need to tell you something."

"You're leaving my idiot grandson."

I blinked. "How did you—"

"Child, I'm old, not blind." She set down the fish food. "He's been bringing that sister of yours around. I see how he looks at her. And I see how you've stopped smiling."

Tears finally spilled.

Grandma pulled me close and stroked my hair.

"I arranged this marriage because I saw something in you, Seren. Not just kindness — strength. My grandson is a fool who doesn't deserve you."

"Then why—"

"Because I hoped he'd grow up." Her voice hardened. "He hasn't."

I wanted to tell her about the baby. But something held me back.

If Grandma knew, she'd wage war against Callum. She'd force him to stay with me. And I'd spend the rest of my life wondering if he was there out of obligation.

I'd rather raise this child alone than be someone's duty.

"Grandma, after the birthday party, I'm leaving the city."

Her hand tightened on mine.

"Where will you go?"

"I got an offer. Overseas. A design firm in Milan."

This wasn't a lie. Before the contract marriage, I'd been a promising interior designer. I'd shelved my career to play the role of Mrs. Hale.

Three months ago, I'd quietly submitted a portfolio to a prestigious firm under my maiden name. The acceptance letter arrived the same week Callum told me he wanted a divorce.

The universe has a dark sense of humor.

Grandma studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"Go. Build something that's yours. But promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"When my idiot grandson finally realizes what he lost — and he will — don't make it easy for him."

I laughed through my tears. "I promise."

That night, I stayed at the estate. As I lay in bed, my hand rested on my still-flat stomach.

I whispered to the tiny life inside me: "It's you and me now."

My phone lit up. A message from Callum:

[Amber said you were rude to her before you left. Can you at least be civil? She's going to be part of my life now.]

I stared at the message for ten seconds.

Then I typed back: [Sure.]

And blocked his number.