The way his eyes shifted to the left told me that he was lying. That lie broke something in me. “Just a couple of nights ago, we were looking at apartments in Seattle online.” My breaths started coming quicker. “Was that some kind of sick joke to you?”

“No, Kenna. Never. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I love you, but…”

His words trailed off as he stepped closer. The scent of the perfume clinging to him had my stomach roiling. “But what?” My voice cracked on the question.

“But I need some time to be free. We’re so young. I love you, but I’m not ready to settle down. We should spend some time apart before we do that. I think we’ll both feel better about it in the end.” He cupped my face, but I couldn’t even feel his hands. I’d gone completely numb. “You’re still my forever, I just need to have college on my own first.”

My breathing picked up speed again as if no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my lungs to fully inflate. My fingers began to tingle as I stepped out of Grant’s hold. Air, I needed air.

“Kenna? Shit, are you okay? Just breathe.”

Grant ran a hand down my back, and I didn’t have the strength to shy away from it. I was too consumed with the effort of trying to catch my breath. “I’m. Pregnant.”

He recoiled as if I told him I had a flesh-eating disease. “Y-you’re what?”

“Pregnant. I’m pregnant.” Just saying the words out loud made my breathing even out, as if they were a call to arms. My baby needed me. I couldn’t lose it now.

“But you said you’re on the pill. Did you lie?”

My head snapped up. “No, I didn’t lie. No form of birth control is one hundred percent effective.”

Grant’s gaze narrowed on me. “But we used condoms most of the time, too.”

Most of the time. My mind circled around the words. “Every time. You had one every time.”

His eyes shifted—that same tell. But this time, it cut deep. “Once or twice, I didn’t actually put it on.”

I stared unblinking at the face of the boy I loved. The one who’d been my first everything. From holding his hand in a darkened movie theater to letting him have the piece of myself I’d held onto for eighteen years. He’d made me feel special, cherished, wanted. And for a girl who’d spent so much of her life feeling like a castoff, being wanted was everything.