“Ella!” Simon shouted again. I didn’t bother to look back, just raised my left hand and gave him the same finger he’d given me in my work place yesterday. I refused to turn around, refused to talk to him again. He’d made his choice and he could bloody well live with the consequences, including the fact he’d never know the child I now carried.

Somehow, we were at the rental car. I was shaking so hard, I wasn’t sure I could drive. But no way I could stay here to further my humiliation. I cursed Simon Dorsey with every word I could think of. Not enough, not ever enough, but he’d taken the choice from me—yanked my security from me and decimated the love I still felt for him.

Time to move forward. Into divorcee single motherhood.

Happy bloody Christmas.

2

Simon

Those first moments when Ella stood there, before dropping the sheaf of papers—and the bigger bomb of her pregnancy—at my feet, I thrilled to see her. She was more beautiful than ever. Even before she spoke, she’d shattered my anger and aggravation at the way we’d left our last few conversations. Sure, I was frustrated and hurt—deeply, terribly hurt—she thought I could possibly cheat on her. She had to know she was all I thought about—her and Jeremiah. As soon as I looked into her eyes, I realized I’d missed her, more than I’d known.

But now . . . she’d seen me, and the pain in her lovely, light green eyes as she spoke of divorce turned hard when she looked back to find Monique kissing me. No, I didn’t kiss her back. I couldn’t, not with Jeremiah watching and, more importantly, because I didn’t want to.

Monique wasn’t my wife. The only lips I wanted to touch, caress, taste were Ella’s.

I clutched at my chest, unsure which was worse—the pain in Ella’s eyes or the disappointment and anger in Jeremiah’s.

Both. All of it. What the hell happened just now?

“Where did she get divorce papers?” I asked.

“You told the lawyer to send them. Remember?”

I mostly certainly did not remember. I’d visited his office one time—once—just after Ella and I fought nearly two months ago. Over the pictures of Monique and me in the papers. Monique suggested that visit—her and Gerard—saying I’d be better off without Ella holding me back, causing my emotional distress.

More and more over the past few months, I’d come to realize I could have Ella or I could have my career, but I couldn’t balance both. I’d thought giving her up was the smart decision—the best choice for my future.