“Ethan!”

“What? What?”

“I don’t think it was the food.”

“What else could it be?”

There was a long pause, searching looks, then dawning comprehension. A spark of joy built in his chest. “Oh my God, Sutton. Are you...?”

“Pregnant,” she said, the word dripping with contempt and hate.

“Pregnant!” he cried, dropping to his knees, gathering her in his arms. She was stiff as a board, didn’t move. “My darling, this is brilliant news. Brilliant! We have to call the doctor, we need to decide which room to use as the nursery, we—”

“Stop. Just stop. There will be no baby.”

Ethan froze. Her tone was so coolly detached now he almost didn’t recognize her. If he could see into her head, he’d realize his beloved, crouched on the bathroom floor, a string of vomit in her tangled hair, was slowly plotting the demise of their child.

“What do you mean, no baby? Of course there will be. You’re healthy, this will go wonderfully. How far along are you?”

He didn’t say he’d suspected all along because the trash can hadn’t filled with the usual monthly accoutrements. He didn’t tell her he’d noticed her breasts were a touch fuller, the nipples gone the color of wine. He couldn’t, because if he did, it would be clear to Sutton he’d been paying attention to her cycle, and if she knew that, she might realize more about her “surprise” pregnancy, and right now, all he cared about was getting her mind wrapped around a little one.

“A baby, Sutton. We made a baby.”

She stood up. “I don’t want to have a baby. I have absolutely no interest in having a baby. I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“So...what? You’re going to do what?”

“I’m going to have an abortion.”

Ethan reared back as if slapped. “Over my dead body.”

There was something in her eyes when she looked at him. He should have taken a moment and tried to understand what she was telegraphing in her gaze, but he was panicking. It couldn’t happen. She couldn’t get rid of their child. He had to find a way to convince her this was meant to be, that a baby would be everything to them.

Purged, she headed to the kitchen, and he followed, pleading, demanding.

“You can’t. I forbid it.”

“It’s my body, Ethan. I’m the one who has to deal with this. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“It’s our child. Ours. You can’t just make a decision like this without my input.”

“The law says I can, Ethan.” She took up her teacup. Wrinkled her perfect nose and dumped it into the sink. Pulled out a bottle of Diet Sprite, the only soda she’d allow herself, and poured a glass. Took a sip and turned green again.

“Ugh.” He saw her glance at him, sideways, under her lashes, measuring, and knew the discussion was still ongoing. Thank God.

“Come here.” Ethan led her to the table, got her seated gently in the chair, knelt in front of her so they were face-to-face. “Darling. My sweet brave girl. I know you’re scared. I know you don’t think you want this. But a baby... Sutton, we have so much to give a child. We have freedom and money and a beautiful home. We were born to be parents.”