Ceci curls into one corner of the couch, pulling a blanket over her legs. Her gaze drifts somewhere far away—toward the Christmas tree and the faint glow of the decorations hanging in the corner of the living room. “Where are the kids?” I ask.
She exhales. “Alicia’s in her room. Ethan... went out for a run a few minutes before you got here.”
I take a slow breath and lower myself into the armchair facing the couch. “Our legal and PR teams are already taking all the necessary measures,” I say.
Ceci doesn’t respond. She barely even looks at me.
“I’ll make sure it’s taken down from the site as soon as possible.”
She rubs her temple. “It’s already gone.”
That catches me off guard. Then it clicks. “Mark took it down or something?”
“No. I wouldn’t let him risk getting arrested. But when he checked, it had already been removed. I thought it was you.”
I sink deeper into the armchair. “Well, that’s at least one small mercy.”
Her next words cut straight through me. “Who wasn’t supposed to see it,our children, already did. So now it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
“You know that whole thing is a bunch of crap they were spreading on that trashy excuse of a site,” I say, anger bleeding through every word.
“Not all of it,” she says. Her voice is calm, but the tremor beneath it hits harder than if she’d yelled. “For all I know, the only thing they got wrong was how long we were married. Youdid have an affair with your junior executive assistant. And you did do several of the things they mentioned. The way they twisted it, turning it into some forbidden love story or making it seem like you were the one who left me, doesn’t change the facts.”
I stare at her from across the room. At the woman who once looked at me like I was her entire world, and now can barely stand to look at me at all. The words burn a hole in my throat. I know that once I say them, there’s no taking them back.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I manage, my voice rough and tight.
Ceci’s eyes flick to me, tired and hollow. “What could possibly be left to tell, Colin?”
I swallow hard. “Maya’s pregnant.”
For a moment, she doesn’t move. She doesn’t even blink. Then it sinks in. Her breath catches, and she brings a trembling hand to her mouth.
The first sob breaks out of her like something she’s been holding back for days. “Tell me you’re lying,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Please. Just tell me it’s not true.”
“I wish I could.”
She lets out a small, broken laugh that sounds more like pain than amusement. Her shoulders shake as tears stream down her face, her expression shattered beyond repair.
“So there’s nothing left, then,” she says between sobs. “Nothing that was only ours.” Her voice cracks. “Everything you gave me, you gave to her too. And more. You gave her more.”
“Ceci, no,” I say, shaking my head, the words forcing their way out through clenched teeth. “I don’t believe her. If she’s pregnant, it’s not mine.”
She stares at me like she can’t even recognize the man standing in front of her.
“I thought I’d already lost everything,” she whispers. “But I was wrong. You managed to find one last piece of me left to break.”
I can’t hold it in anymore.
The tears come fast, spilling over before I can even catch my breath. I try to inhale, but it turns into a jagged sob.
“I’m sorry,” I manage, but it comes out broken. Strangled. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
My voice cracks on the words, desperate and exposed. I wipe at my face, but it doesn’t stop. The shaking. The guilt.
“I don’t want that baby, Ceci,” I whisper, each syllable tearing something open inside me. “I don’t. I won’t. She’s not the mother of my children.”
I press a hand to my chest, as if I could hold myself together long enough to make her believe me. My breath stumbles out between sobs.
