“Jace, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

I whirl around to face her. “Are you pregnant?” I planned to show up and give her a chance to tell me, but being here—seeing her—it’s more than I was prepared for. I’m barely holding it together; drawing this conversation out will only make it worse.

The expression on her face tells me everything I need to know.

“And you’re planning your wedding? With Charles?” I accuse. Betrayal courses through me. “How could you not tell me something like this? After everything?”

Viv looks panicked. “I don’t understand. How did you even find out?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” I ask, my voice cutting. “How I found out?”

“No—Jace—I—” I’ve never seen Viv so flustered, but I’m too mad and hurt to care. “I would have told you, it’s just—”

“Is it not mine?”

Anger flickers across Viv’s face for the first time. “How could you ask me that? You know—”

“I don’t know anything, apparently!” I shout.

“I would have told you, okay? I found out I was pregnant, and I was going to tell you, but then—”

“But, what? It was too inconvenient for you?”

Viv’s eyes flash. “I’m not pregnant anymore, okay? That’s why I decided not to tell you.”

An unexpected wave of loss hits me.

Sympathy dawns across Viv’s face. “No, Jace, that’s not what I—”

“I’m done. I’m fucking done,” I spit out. “I wish you never came to Lincoln. I wish we never met.” I’ve thought the words before, but this is the first time I’ve ever said them out loud. I regret them immediately, even before I see the spasm of pain cross Viv’s face. But I also know if I stay, I’ll only say more things I’ll later regret. Especially now that my reason for making this trip is gone.

I turn around and start to walk back toward the main gate. There’s a pause, and then I hear Viv call my name.

I keep walking.

VIVIENNE

I collapse on the hard patio, resting my head against my knees. I know I should go after him, tell him the truth. But what then? He’ll comfort me, he’ll apologize, he’ll leave. Maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner.

Footsteps sound, but I don’t look up.

“Vivienne?” my mother asks quietly.

I don’t respond.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with her? What was he doing here?” Charles asks. Derision drips from the last question.

“Can you let Maria and Joan know we’ll need to reschedule?” is my mother’s only response.

I hear Charles’s retreating steps a few seconds later.

“Vivienne?” my mother says again.

I can’t respond, too busy trying to smother the waves of pain. I gave Jace the power to hurt me a long time ago; I just never thought he’d do so purposefully. “He found out.”

My mother is uncharacteristically silent.

“He thinks I chose to…he hates me,” I whisper.

“Vivienne, that boy loves you.”

“Not anymore.” My voice breaks.