Chapter 2

I quickened my pace and slammed our front door behind me.

Inside, I leaned my back against the wood, staring up at the living room ceiling for a long time.

I bought this apartment.

I paid the entire down payment. I paid off the monthly mortgage.

Even that modern crystal chandelier hanging overhead was something I picked out after driving to three different lighting showrooms.

On the coffee table sat a framed picture of our little family. Our daughter, Lily, with her eyes crinkling into sweet crescents, riding on Logan's shoulders.

Back then, Logan’s eyes were filled with nothing but this home.

And now?

Now his eyes were filled with the woman across the hall—and the baby growing inside her.

Logan rushed in a minute later.

By the time he stepped inside, I was already sitting on the couch.

"Zoe."

He stood in the entryway, not even bothering to put on slippers. His wet feet left damp footprints across the hardwood floor.

"It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?"

I took a sip of water, not looking at him.

"Enlighten me."

He walked over and crouched down in front of me, looking up into my face.

"Chloe has had a hard life. She's raising a kid all on her own, she's pregnant, and her deadbeat ex abandoned her. What’s so wrong with me lending a hand?"

"Lending a hand?"

I set my glass down on the glass table with a sharp clink.

"Lending a hand all the way into her bed?"

His face instantly flushed crimson.

"What the hell are you talking about?! There's nothing going on between us!"

"Nothing?"

I pointed toward the front door.

"In that picture, you're wearing the shirt I bought you. Remember what you told me when I gave it to you? You swore you'd cherish it. And then you wore it to pose for lovey-dovey pictures with another woman?"

He froze, clearly caught off guard by the detail.

"That was... that was just for an event at her kid's school. She needed someone to stand in as the dad for the day, so we took a quick photo for a souvenir..."

"And the one where your foreheads were pressed together?"

The words caught in his throat.

"Logan, answer me this: she gets pregnant, and the first person she calls is you? What kind of relationship do you two have that requires her to report her pregnancy to you?"

Silence.

The only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the wall clock.

"Forget it."

I stood up and started walking toward the master bedroom.

"Don't bother making up more lies. Come talk to me when you've figured out a story that actually makes sense."

He lunged forward and grabbed my wrist.

"Zoe, if it bothers you that much, I won't talk to her anymore, alright? I swear, I won't get involved in her business ever again."

I turned my head to look at him.

I had looked at this face for seven years.

From dating to marriage, from a young couple to parents.

For the very first time, he felt completely like a stranger.

"Let's get a divorce."

The words were soft, light, and final.

His pupils shrank.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, I want a divorce."

I yanked my wrist out of his grip, my voice terrifyingly calm.

"You already have a baby on the way, don't you? Go on. Go be their great dad."

"No, Zoe, wait! That baby isn't mine—"

"How am I supposed to believe a word you say?"