Chapter 3

A baby.

The word passed through me like a live current.

Chelsea curled into Julian's chest like a stray kitten. Her palm settled on her stomach. She hit the word pregnancy deliberately.

"When."

I forced it out through my teeth. The white satin glove on my hand was crushed in my own grip.

Julian's face was dark. "Don't listen to her. Get in the car. If you don't want her around, I'll send her away tomorrow."

My father stepped in front of me. His voice was iron.

"My daughter gave you seven years of her life. You spent them running around with other women. You think that's decent?"

He only moved his foot half a step forward.

Julian's arm shot out to shield Chelsea's stomach. Pulled her against him.

I laughed.

"Julian. You lie like a teenager."

"Send her away where? To the maternity suite at the Four Seasons in Boston?"

Julian went still.

Last month I'd seen a reservation confirmation on his phone. Four Seasons Boston. Booked for the day after our wedding. Special note attached to the booking: prenatal-suitable amenities requested.

I'd thought it was for our honeymoon. I'd started prenatals a month early.

Dropped a Tokyo deal I'd spent half a year closing. Cut caffeine. Cut wine.

I'd been prepping my body for a child.

I hadn't understood, until this moment, that the room was already occupied.

My eyes moved down to Chelsea's stomach.

She was showing.

"What. Can't handle it? Just because I've got his baby?"

"What if I told you Julian signed everything over to me before he proposed to you? Every share. Every asset. In our baby's name."

Chelsea's voice pushed harder with every sentence. The provocation in her eyes tipped over into open contempt.

My father's face went white with rage.

"You have no shame. You're not going to hurt my daughter. Tomorrow I'm parking myself outside your college with a sign that says you seduced a married man. ”

“I don't have much left.But I've got enough for that."

My father barely finished the sentence.

Chelsea's body pitched backward.

"Julian. My baby. Something's wrong."

The rain came down harder. From drizzle to full downpour.

Julian was across the driveway in a second. He caught her against his chest.

"Ella Marsh. Get your father's mouth under control. Apologize. To Chelsea. Right now. One more word out of him and I swear."

"If anything happens to Chelsea, how do I face her father??"

I looked up. Met his eyes.

"Whose father, Julian?"

"Chelsea's. He's practically my father-in-law."

"Ella. Stop playing word games. Last time. Apologize. Get in the car."

The sentences from him. Like the rain. They put out every last ember of expectation I'd had for seven years.

For this wedding, my parents had put together a $40,000 gift for Julian. Cash.

The gap between our families was real. My parents had scraped for half their lives to pull that money together. Just to give Julian respect. Just so nobody could say he'd married beneath him.

And now Julian was calling a stranger's father Dad.

I clenched both fists. Didn't move.

"And if I say no?"

Julian's brow knit at the center.

"Fine."

"Everyone out. Tear that house down. Tear it down until Chelsea feels better. Call it her wedding gift."