Chapter 07
This chapter contains mentions
of pregnancy and abortion.
At the top of my game
Colin
I’m fucked. Utterly, irreversibly fucked.
I stare at the sonogram Maya left on my desk, right after I told her to get the hell out of my office without even looking at her face. I look at the white dot in the image and feel... nothing.
The other two times I held one of these, my heart nearly burst out of my chest with happiness.
Those images held a piece of me and Ceci, a fragment of our love, proof of the life we were building and dreaming into existence.
Each time, it felt sacred, like I was holding the heartbeat of everything we were, everything we were always meant to be.
But this one, this single image lying on my desk, I can’t even bring myself to touch. The sight of it makes my stomach turn, guilt and regret crawling up my throat like acid.
I thought I was untouchable. At the top of my game. And now... I’ve run out of cards to play.
Cecily will never forgive me for this. Any chance of rebuilding things with Ethan is gone. And Alicia... my little princess, I doubt she'll ever look at me the same again.
After that goddamn night in my hotel suite, Maya showed up with a lab report—a pregnancy test proving she hadn't been lying. At least, not about being pregnant. Ten weeks pregnant. Two months and fourteen days.
And just like that, my whole world collapsed.
“You're lying!” I fire back, my pulse hammering in my ears. “We used a condom every single time—except once. And even then, I watched you take the Plan B. So don't you dare try to pull this shit on me.”
She shakes her head hard. “No, Colin. I'm not lying. That day I was so nervous and messed up I threw up right after you left.” Her voice softens as her hand drifts instinctively to her flat stomach.
My skin crawls.
“I guess it’s a good thing I did,” she says, her voice trembling. “Because I didn’t know it then, but I was already pregnant that day. Who knows what that pill could’ve done to our baby.”
She was already pregnant that day.
“If you were already pregnant it’s not mine. We always used condoms and they never broke.”
She frowns, her eyes glistening with a mix of hurt and determination.
“You know I’ve been with only you since the day I met you, Colin…
no one else. A paternity test will prove it.
Condoms aren't foolproof; sometimes they fail, and you don’t even realize it.
And it only takes one for this precious little life, this blessing, to exist.”
She’s lying. She has to be.
“What happened to you being on the pill? You told me yourself.” I spit the words, scrounging for anything that will make this go away.
Maya averts her eyes, her voice shrinking to a whisper. “I don't know... It was around the time we were finalizing the biotech acquisition in Seattle. Things were crazy, and I might’ve missed a day or two. It just... happened.”
I start pacing.
It happened.
It wasn't supposed to fucking happen. I did everything right, took every damn precaution. And somehow, the universe found a way to screw me.
“Fuck—fuck!” I slam my palm on the bar. I turn to her, voice low and flat. “You’ll end it. If it's mine—if you're pregnant—you will not keep that child.”
A tear rolls down her cheek and she makes a small, helpless noise. I watch, unmoved.
She scrambles for words, voice shaking. “No… please, you don’t mean that. I was shocked too when I found out this week. I wanted to tell you in a better way, something... not like this. I panicked and blurted it out. I didn’t know how else to do it.”
“I don’t give a shit!” I snap. “You're getting an abortion—and I’ll cover it. Every penny. Discreet. No questions, no paper trail back to me.”
Maya clutches her stomach with both hands as if she can fold it away. Her voice is barely more than a wounded whisper. “How can you say that?" she asks, eyes wide “Colin, I love you. I could never do that to our baby.”
“How can you say you love me when you don’t even know me?” I bite out, my voice low and edged with disgust. “Sex isn't love, Maya. The only way you ever knew me was by fucking me. And there’s no love in that—no matter how many times it happens."
She says nothing, just keeps tracing slow circles over her stomach. Each tender motion crawls under my skin, turning my disgust into something almost unbearable.
“Even if it carries my DNA, it won’t be mine,” I say, my voice ice-cold. “I’m not going to be a father to your child, Maya. Stop feeding your delusions. We’re not playing house. We’re not building a life. There is only one mother to my children—and she’s my wife.”
I offered her money. Millions, if she’d just get rid of the problem.
I asked what she wanted—I’d give her anything. But she refused it all. Because she loves me.
It’s been two weeks, and her story hasn’t changed.
She keeps saying she can’t let go of what's growing inside her. Something that’s ours.
Foolish, delusional woman.
Where, in everything we’ve ever done together, is there even a trace of love? I never took her on dates—not in any real sense.
Sharing meals in hotel restaurants, in rooms, or between flights doesn’t count. It was just food. Just routine. The same way Margaret or Jonathan eat with me on business trips.
I never shared anything meaningful with her. We never talked about my life—or hers. We know nothing about each other beyond work and our bodies. I never whispered words of affection to her, never even made love to her. I never once gave her reason to believe I was considering anything more.
It was always just sex. And it never meant anything.
So was it the damn dress and shoes I paid for, just to make sure she looked the part at that event? The stupid flowers and chocolates on her birthday—something to give her after she’d been hinting for weeks?
I’m sure she was expecting more, a piece of jewelry, a trip somewhere special. Those travel brochures that suddenly started showing up in her apartment, filled with romantic getaways and “things to do as a couple,” weren’t a coincidence.
I’m not an idiot. Or some kid dumb enough to fall for cheap games.
But I’ve never felt more like one than I do right now.
“…I didn’t catch an STI? That the Plan B worked? That my children and I didn’t end up with an unwanted reminder of your betrayal?”
Cecily will never forgive me. Not for this.
If the baby’s born and she finds out, that’s it. There’s no coming back from it.
I drag a hand down my face, frustration digging its claws in. A glance at the clock, less than thirty minutes until the investor meeting.
I need to get my shit together. I can't let this blow up everything else I’ve built.
I shake everyone’s hand, satisfied with how the meeting went. At least something is going right today.
I follow the group as they head toward the elevator when a voice stops me. “Colin Montgomery?” asks a man in a gray suit.
“Yes?”
He extends a brown envelope. “You’ve been served.”
I frown, taking it from his hand. When I pull out the stack of papers inside, my brain stops working.
My eyes catch random words…
Divorce.
Plaintiff.
Cecily Montgomery.
My name is there too. But everything blurs. I forget to breathe.
Divorce?
No.
“Mr. Montgomery?”
The voice sounds distant, barely registering.
“Colin?”
This time, there’s a firm hand on my arm.
My vision steadies just enough to see Margaret standing in front of me. When I glance around, I realize the investor and his team are lingering by the elevator. Many of them watching me, confusion and discomfort etched across their faces.
The corridor won’t stop spinning.
“Call—call one of the company chauffeurs,” I manage to say, my voice rough, barely audible.
“You don’t look well, are you sure—”
“Now, Margaret.” This time, my voice is tight, controlled.
I can’t waste a second. I have to fix this.