“You little rascal,” she cooed to her bump. “Be good and grow strong so Mommy doesn’t suffer. Or Daddy’s gonna punish you when you’re out!”
Quentin stepped out of the exam room holding prenatal meds—for pregnant women.
His face? All soft and glowing like some proud dad.
He rubbed Rainee’s belly, smiling. “The baby doesn’t even get what you’re saying, and you’re already threatening it?”
Then the machine called my name.
I stood up from a corner. He turned. Our eyes met.
He froze—totally caught off guard.
Bet he never thought he’d run into me here, same day, same place.
I’d asked him just yesterday to come with me. He said he was busy.
And I bought it. No questions.
Booked the appointment myself. Came alone.
Turns out, “busy” meant playing perfect husband to Rainee, like I didn’t even exist.
I walked over slow, staring at Rainee’s slightly rounded belly. My face? Blank. Dead calm.
“How far along are you?”
Quentin clamped his mouth shut, wouldn’t even look at me.
Rainee, though? She smiled like she’d won. “Almost two months. It’s mine and Quentin’s baby.”
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.
Same as mine. Two months.
It felt like something cracked wide open inside me. Tears started falling, and I couldn’t stop them.
I looked up at him, voice barely hanging on. “Aren’t you gonna explain?”
Quentin’s face twisted. He rushed over, pulling me in. “I’m sorry. I lied. Yeah, I came with her—but the baby’s not mine. I just didn’t want anything to happen to her alone.”
Behind him, Rainee smirked, then turned on the waterworks. “But Quentin, you promised you’d be this baby’s dad. We’re married. Once the baby’s here, you have to give it your surname.”
