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“Fuck,” he mutters. “We haven’t even been together for a year—”

“I know it ends in a year,” I say stiffly. “This baby changes nothing.”

Every emotion bleeds from his eyes until they look like cold, empty marbles. “Of course not. Why should it?” He gives me an unblinking stare. “Do you want to keep it?”

I hide a wince at the question. “Are you asking me if it’s yours?”

“No.”

The hard, one-word answer hits me like a slap. “You don’t even want to know if it’s yours or Jeffrey’s?”

He pushes the glasses back on his face. “We already established the baby changes nothing.”It doesn’t matter if it’s Jeffrey’s.You and your baby aren’t worth me altering my decision.We end in a year.

I hear the unspoken words. Haven’t I known all along Rhys isn’t the type to commit? He hasn’t had a real girlfriend in fourteen years, and only wanted me to play a fake girlfriend to avoid his grandmother’s matchmaking attempts. The baby that I regard with love represents a shackle to him—something that could force him to do something he doesn’t want to. The temperature in the restaurant seems to drop twenty degrees. Goosebumps spread all over my skin. I wish I’d ordered warm tea.

He continues in that same flat tone, “The baby’s paternity isn’t as important as what you think about the pregnancy, and what you plan to do about it.”

Bitter disappointment and grief cleave my heart. He couldn’t make it clearer that he doesn’t care about the life we created together.

Tears burn in my eyes. I look away, not wanting him to see how I’m bleeding inside. I’m not going to be pathetic and cling to a man who doesn’t value me or my baby the way we deserve.I exhale roughly, trying to focus on our conversation. “I’m not sure, honestly.”

That isn’t exactly true. What I want are two contradictory things—I want him to be with me and the baby, but I also don’t want him to be with us if he can’t love us unconditionally forever.

“You can’t take too long to decide.”

A self-deprecating smile tugs at my mouth. He sounds eager to…what? Dump me? End it before his parents and grandparents find out? “The baby’s yours.”

Something flickers in his expression. He bites his lip, probably bracing himself for my demanding a commitment beyond our initially agreed-upon date.

You don’t have to worry about that. “But I don’t want you todo the right thing.”

Rhys’s eyes widen for a second. All blood drains from his face until he’s chalk-white. “So, that’s it? You’re going to leave?”

“I don’t need you to stay for the baby—”

He raises a hand, cutting me off. “I will never do ‘the right thing,’ as you put it, just because of the baby.” He presses a spot between his eyebrows, then looks at me, his eyes unwavering. “And you? Do you want to stay together for the baby?”

Under the weight of his gaze, I falter. I care about him—actually, I love him, most likely. I don’t know how or why, but somehow he got under my skin, and I can’t imagine a life without him. But at the same time, this isn’t just about my life anymore. I don’t want him to feel coerced into commitment he never wanted to make. “No.”

His eyes shutter, making it impossible for me to read his emotions, but from the slight sag of his shoulders, he must be relieved.

Later that evening, after dinner, I tell him I want to read, then spend the rest of the night in an armchair in the livingroom. I can’t lie next to the man I love—and the father of my baby—who wants neither of us and pretend everything’s fine when my heart continues to bleed.

Chapter Forty-Three

Rhys

I head to Silas’s house for brunch with my brothers, since there isn’t anything I can do about the situation with Max. She totally shut down after telling me she’s pregnant with my baby. And I’m too scared to push, too afraid to press the wrong button and detonate our fragile relationship.

When she told me, sheer joy and terror pulled at me from the opposite directions, leaving me paralyzed. I didn’t need her to tell me it’s mine because I already knew. She would’ve started the conversation with the baby’s paternity otherwise.

But as the talk progressed, her emotional retreat was obvious. She doesn’t want the baby to stand in the way of ending our relationship. But then, she’s seen plenty of drama within my family. In hindsight, bidding a billion dollars on me was likely more about flipping Trevor the bird than any real feelings for me.

She won’t even share my bed anymore. Although she hasn’t explicitly moved into the guest bedroom, she sleeps in the living room, ostensibly “falling asleep while reading.”

No book that engrossing would remain unfinished for over a week. But I don’t call her out on it. Part of me is terrified she’ll just pack up and leave…like Selena did.

What I felt for my ex was genuine, but it’s nothing compared to the all-consuming love I harbor for Max. Selena broke my heart when she left. But Max? She would wreck my soul.