“No.” Does he think that’s how this works? That if I can’t have him, I’ll take George, despite the lies? Despite the fact that my heart belongs to Easton? My thoughts muddle and blur, and the world around me seems hazy. “All I know is I have to have a way to take care of this baby. I have to make that my priority.”

He closes his eyes. “By moving to L.A.”

“There are some things that aren’t clear to me, but I want to be a mom. This baby was unexpected and unplanned but not unwanted.”

“How can you say that when he is the father? He was married and slept with you.”

“So were you!” I push myself off the swing. I shouldn’t have come here. But one thing is clear. I have to move. Because I don’t think I can survive seeing Easton all the time and knowing he’ll never be mine.

“Were you going to tell me?”

“I should’ve told you the second you opened your door on Monday. I know that. I just . . .” What excuse do I have? I wanted one more time with you? I didn’t think my heart would survive losing you a third time?

His eyes are watery, and he tilts his face up to the ceiling of the covered porch. “Trying to raise this baby alone in L.A. is a big mistake.”

“I don’t need your approval.” I walk to where I parked my car on the street, only looking back when I open the door. He’s not running after me. He’s just standing there, staring at the ground. I didn’t realize that part of me was hoping that when circumstances turned against us a third time, he might choose me anyway. And watching him stand there, watching him let me go, I feel my heart break once more.

Easton

Shay walked away, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.

It’s been an hour since she stormed off the porch at her brother’s house and left me behind to deal with my shock and confusion.

She’s having his baby.

There’s part of me that keeps waiting for her to track me down and say it was all a bad joke. A mistake. Anything.

We’ve never been able to get the timing right. Before I left for L.A., she was too young. Then Scarlett was pregnant; then Abi was sick. And now . . .

She’s having his baby.

“You look like hell,” Carter says, sliding into the booth across from me.

Shay walked away, and I came to Jackson Brews. I let the nanny know I’d be home late, and I fully intended on getting completely shitfaced. But so far I haven’t had more than a couple of sips of my beer, and the double Bulleit I ordered sits untouched in front of me.