Chapter 4

I was still lying in bed when Liam walked back into the room. He had a small bottle in his hand. My prenatal vitamins. He must have found them in my purse while I was in the shower.

"What are these?" he asked, his tone unreadable.

My heart pounded in my chest. This was it. The moment of truth.

"Are you pregnant, Chloe?"

He said it so casually, as if he were asking about the weather. I saw the calculation in his eyes. He wasn't thinking about a baby, about us. He was thinking about a problem.

"We can't have a baby right now," he said, before I could even answer. His voice was smooth, reasonable. "My family... it would be a complication. But don't worry. I'll take care of it. I'll book an appointment at the best clinic. It'll be discreet."

He was suggesting I get an abortion for a baby that didn't even exist. The casual cruelty of it stole my breath. He didn't want our baby. He didn't want me. He just wanted to manage his "complication."

"I'm not pregnant," I said, my voice flat.

He frowned, looking from the vitamins to my face. "What? Don't lie to me, Chloe. I'm trying to help you."

"I'm not lying." I felt a strange calm settle over me. "I went to a clinic today. It was a false positive. Just stress. I started my period this morning."

For a second, he looked genuinely surprised. Then his expression shifted. The cold, calculating man disappeared, replaced by the charming, concerned Liam I thought I knew.

"Oh, baby," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He sat on the bed and pulled me into his arms. "You must have been so scared. Why didn't you tell me?"

The sudden switch was dizzying. He held me close, stroking my hair, murmuring sweet things into my ear. It felt good. It felt familiar. But it also felt completely fake.

A question burned on my tongue. Did you mean what you said at the club? Do you really think I'm just a distraction?

But I couldn't ask. I was afraid of the answer. I was afraid that if I pushed, this fragile illusion of warmth would shatter, leaving me with the cold, hard truth of the man he really was.

So I let him hold me. I let him apologize for my "scare" and promise to take better care of me. I let him be the hero of a crisis that never happened.

He kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep. You've had a long day."

I closed my eyes and pretended to drift off. But as I lay there in his arms, I had never felt more awake. Or more alone. The chasm between us was vast and terrifying, and I was trapped on the wrong side of it.