And now I’m pregnant.
Shit.
23
KAI
Samantha pusheseggs around her plate without eating them.
I watch from across the breakfast table while Dad discusses something about quarterly reports with Donovan. She’s nodding at the right times, making appropriate sounds, but her eyes are distant. Empty.
“Sam.” I lean forward. “You going to actually eat that or just rearrange it into modern art?”
She looks up, startled. “What?”
“Your eggs. They’ve been traveling in circles for five minutes.”
“Oh.” She sets down her fork. “Sorry. Not that hungry.”
“You feeling okay?” Dad asks, attention shifting to her.
“Fine. Just tired.” She stands, leaving most of her breakfast untouched. “I should get to work on that retail presentation.” She’s gone before any of us can respond.
Dad and Donovan exchange a look. “She’s been off since yesterday,” Donovan says.
“Maybe she’s getting sick,” Dad suggests.
But I don’t think she’s sick. I think something’s wrong and she’s not telling us.
I find her in the library an hour later, staring at her laptop screen without typing.
“Come with me,” I say from the doorway.
She doesn’t look up. “I’m working.”
“You’re staring into space.” I walk over and close her laptop. “Come on. You need air.”
“Kai, I really should?—”
“You really should take a break before you burn out.” I pull her to her feet. “Fresh air. Adventure. All the things that make life worth living.”
She lets me guide her toward the door, but doesn’t protest or joke like she normally would.
We bundle up and head outside. The temperature has warmed slightly over the past few days. Still freezing, but the kind of cold that bites rather than stabs.
I lead her to the snowmobiles.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Wherever we end up.” I hand her a helmet. “That’s the fun part.”
We take off across the estate grounds. I go slower than usual, keeping her close. The landscape is stunning—endless white interrupted by dark pine trees, mountains rising in the distance.
I take us to the overlook where we stopped weeks ago. The spot with the view of three mountain ranges. We dismount and stand at the edge, looking out over the valley.
“It’s beautiful,” she says quietly.
“Yeah.” But I’m watching her instead of the view. “You want to talk about what’s wrong?”
