lla. My legs felt like lead, my mind a blank canvas, scarred by the im

ll on the small, unassuming box on the counter. A pregnancy test. I picked it up without thinking, my fin

I tossed it aside, not expecting anything, no

oments later, two distinc

li

a brutal mockery. After years of trying, of endless cycles of IVF, of painful failures and shatter

ts, for the emotional toll, for the countless injections. He had promised me it didn't matter if we never

I had clung to a desperate hope. A child, a symbol of o

ndergone my final, secret round of IVF. I hadn't told him. I wanted it t

. A boy and a girl. Healthy, strong. I was already three months pregnant.

urprise w

' s child. My twins, our children, had no

the present. Drake. My breath caught in my throat. I quic

to my pocket, the plastic cold against my skin. T

Kaitlyn? Why haven't you been answering my calls?" His

remembered how those eyes used to look at me, full of adoration, full of promise. The man who had onc

stammered, forcing a small, s

lien, suffocating. His chin rested on my head, his voice a low, comfortin

. You married another woman. You impregnated her. And you want to tal

ulled away, checking the caller ID. His expression, moments ago

m. I watched his retreating back, a familiar ache blooming in my chest

t work call. I have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can, ba

a shield. The door slamm

et, two lines mocking me with their unde

ed, pressing a hand to my still-flat belly. "I can't give you a whole family, but I promi

secure our new home. A week, and then I would disappear. For good. He would never see m