Chapter 2

2.

The three days I waited for the results were the longest of my life.

I stayed at the hotel, refusing to go home or answer my phone. Ethan sent dozens of texts, ranging from apologetic to angry to begging.

"Amy, please talk to me."

"I screwed up but we can fix this."

"Where are you? I'm worried."

"You're being so immature."

I didn't reply to a single one.

On the third day, Ben called.

"The results are in. Can you come by?"

I already knew the answer. I could hear it in his voice.

The clinic hallway was quiet. Ben led me into a private conference room, not his office.

A sealed envelope lay on the table.

"Before you open that," Ben said, "I want you to know that what happened here could constitute a state felony. Medical fraud, violation of informed consent, and possibly assault."

I tore open the envelope.

The report’s conclusion was brutally clear:

"Probability of Maternity: 0%"

"Probability of Paternity: 99.9%"

The baby inside of me had no biological connection to me.

But Ethan was the father.

It wasn't hard to guess who the mother was.

The room started to spin. I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself.

"The paperwork is… problematic," Ben continued. "Someone accessed the consent forms. Someone who knew how to make it look legitimate."

"Ethan."

"Or someone working with him. Amy, this isn't just about a divorce. You need to get a lawyer. Now."

I stared at the report, my mind blank.

All the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

Ethan’s sudden desperation for a child―right after Chloe moved back from Europe.

The "fake wedding"―Chloe wanting to experience life's two most important moments.

Getting married. And having a baby.

Her baby was now inside my womb.

"I need to end the pregnancy."

The words left my mouth before I even realized I'd made the decision. It wasn't an impulse, or revenge. It was the only choice I had.

Ben nodded. "I'll make the arrangements. But Amy, think carefully about the legal implications. Once you do this, the evidence is gone."

"I don't care about the evidence. I care about not being a walking incubator for someone else's child."

My voice was colder than I thought possible.

"Should I call someone for you? Your mom?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. She'll worry."

The procedure was scheduled for the next morning.

That night, I sat alone in my hotel room, my hand on my stomach.

Technically, there was nothing there. Just a cluster of cells, barely implanted.

But it had changed everything.

I thought of my mom's words. She divorced my dad when I was little and raised me on her own.

"Men will make promises they can't keep, Amy. Protect yourself first."

I'd thought she was pessimistic. Now I understood she was just a realist.

The next morning, the procedure was quick.

When I woke up, Ben was sitting by my bed.

"It's over," he said softly. "Physically, you'll be fine. Emotionally… that might take longer."

I didn't cry. The tears, it seemed, had all been shed yesterday.

"What now?"

"Now you take care of yourself. And then, you decide what you're going to do about Ethan."

I closed my eyes.

"I'm getting a divorce."