“You sent me packing, refusing to listen to anything I had to say,” I go on.
“And I still don’t care to hear your excuses about why you were disloyal.”
“Then why are you here?” I demand.
With that, Ransome swings around, his stony eyes falling on me hard.
“Because you’re pregnant.”
“So what?” I snap.
The beeping noises pick up as my heart rate rises. Ransome’s eyes flick to the monitor. “You need to calm down.”
“Again, why do you care? You don’t want to have anything to do with me. What difference does it make to you if I am okay or if the baby is okay?”
“Because that baby could be mine,” he snaps back.
I snort. “Okay. I mean, heisyours. That’s not a question.”
“It is for me,” he says.
My jaw drops. “You think I cheated on you?”
“I think I’m going to need a paternity test to make sure you didn’t.”
“Unbelievable.” I shake my head and lean back into the bed. “Jesus Christ, Ransome. From the job at Apex to everything else you showed me, I was nothing but loyal.”
“Some of your actions beg to differ.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“Not to mention photos,” he adds. “And that video.”
“Are you seriously still caught up on that?” I throw my hands up. “I have no interest in Tristan. Every conversation we had, I was cornered.”
“Prove it,” he says.
“How?! You don’t listen to anything I say! And in case you dropped out of school even earlier than I did, flash news: youcannotprove a negative.”
“Then prove a positive.” His arms cross. “Prove I’m the father. With a paternity test.”
“For fuck’s sake, my baby isnotTristan Chadovich’s!”
The beeping escalates again.
“Keep your fucking voice down,” he growls.
I lower my voice, but my tone stays the same. Annoyed, enunciated, bulleted. “The baby is yours.”
“And if it is—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“He.”
“What?”
“The baby is a boy.He,notit.”
Ransome’s eyes dart back down again. Something stormy flashes behind them. Something I haven’t seen before and can’t decipher.
