“You’re still planning to go to school?” he asked as he struggled into his pants. I nodded, and he seemed to calm slightly. “This is still a huge fuck up.”

“Well, I didn’t get this way by myself,” I snapped. “You certainly enjoyed yourself along the way, and I don’t remember you complaining while you were getting off between my legs every fucking night.”

He yanked his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a wad of hundred-dollar bills, slamming them on the dresser. “You’re right. I’m partly responsible, so there’s some money to take care of… the problem.” With a final indignant glare in my direction, he stomped out of the room.

My eyes were glued to the money on the dresser as I heard the front door slam. The problem? Did he think I was going to get an abortion? No. No, no, HELL no. That was a personal decision that a woman had to make for herself, but I was already bonded with this baby. A baby that was conceived in love. Our baby.

I’d already calculated the probable due date thanks to a website I found, and the baby should be due in December, which would be during winter break from med school. I could do this, and I certainly wouldn’t be asking Axel effing Broxton for one thin dime to raise my baby. Not after what he had just implied. Not after the way he had spoken to me.

And that’s when the anger subsided, and the truth finally hit me like someone had dumped a load of gravel on my head. I had just lost the love of my life. If calling me a gold digging slut wasn’t a sign that he didn’t love me, I didn’t know what was. This was it. I could almost hear my heart shattering into a million pieces as that reality sunk into my soul.

Axel, baby. God, I loved you. Still love you.

Tears sprang to my eyes, and a wave of nausea rolled up my throat. Oh fuck. I dashed to the restroom and vomited up everything in my stomach, the heaves racking my body, before grabbing some toilet paper and wiping my mouth. I leaned back against the coolness of the bathtub and put my hand over my belly. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, little one. I guess your sperm donor got more of his father’s personality than I realized. But I sure do love you.”