She scrambles for words, voice shaking. “No… please, you don’t mean that. I was shocked too when I found out this week. I wanted to tell you in a better way, something... not like this. I panicked and blurted it out. I didn’t know how else to do it.”
“I don’t give a shit!” I snap. “You're getting an abortion—and I’ll cover it. Every penny. Discreet. No questions, no paper trail back to me.”
Maya clutches her stomach with both hands as if she can fold it away. Her voice is barely more than a wounded whisper. “How can you say that?" she asks, eyes wide “Colin,I love you. I could never do that toourbaby.”
“How can you say you love me when you don’t even know me?” I bite out, my voice low and edged with disgust. “Sex isn't love, Maya. The only way you ever knew me was byfuckingme. And there’s no love in that—no matter how many times it happens."
She says nothing, just keeps tracing slow circles over her stomach. Each tender motion crawls under my skin, turning my disgust into something almost unbearable.
“Even if it carries my DNA, it won’t be mine,” I say, my voice ice-cold. “I’m not going to be a father to your child, Maya. Stop feeding your delusions. We’re not playing house. We’re not building a life. There is only one mother to my children—and she’s my wife.”
I offered her money. Millions, if she’d just get rid of the problem.
I asked what she wanted—I’d give heranything. But she refused it all. Because shelovesme.
It’s been two weeks, and her story hasn’t changed.
She keeps saying she can’t let go of what's growing inside her. Something that’s ours.
Foolish, delusional woman.
Where, in everything we’ve ever done together, is there even a trace of love? I never took her on dates—not in any real sense.
Sharing meals in hotel restaurants, in rooms, or between flights doesn’t count. It was just food. Just routine. The same way Margaret or Jonathan eat with me on business trips.
I never shared anything meaningful with her. We never talked about my life—or hers. We know nothing about eachother beyond work and our bodies. I never whispered words of affection to her, never even made love to her. I never once gave her reason to believe I was considering anything more.
It was always just sex. And it never meant anything.
So was it the damn dress and shoes I paid for, just to make sure she looked the part at that event? The stupid flowers and chocolates on her birthday—something to give her after she’d been hinting for weeks?
I’m sure she was expecting more, a piece of jewelry, a trip somewhere special. Those travel brochures that suddenly started showing up in her apartment, filled with romantic getaways and “things to do as a couple,” weren’t a coincidence.
I’m not an idiot. Or some kid dumb enough to fall for cheap games.
But I’ve never felt more like one than I do right now.
“…I didn’t catch an STI? That the Plan B worked? That my children and I didn’t end up with an unwanted reminder of your betrayal?”
Cecily willneverforgive me. Not for this.
If the baby’s born and she finds out, that’s it. There’s no coming back from it.
I drag a hand down my face, frustration digging its claws in. A glance at the clock, less than thirty minutes until the investor meeting.
I need to get my shit together.I can't let this blow up everything else I’ve built.
I shake everyone’s hand, satisfied with how the meeting went. At leastsomethingis going right today.
I follow the group as they head toward the elevator when a voice stops me. “Colin Montgomery?” asks a man in a gray suit.
“Yes?”
He extends a brown envelope. “You’ve been served.”
I frown, taking it from his hand. When I pull out the stack of papers inside, my brain stops working.
My eyes catch random words…
