I walk into my apartment and collapse onto the couch. It’s late and I’m exhausted. The meal was an absolute, unmitigated disaster . . . but really, it’s all my own fault.

Why, oh why, didn’t I just tell him earlier? Why did I keep putting it off, again and again?

If it was me in his shoes, would I be pissed off? Hell yes, I would, probably more than he had been. A secret like that? You just don’t keep that from someone, especially not your husband.

Because he is—my husband, that is. Whether or not I like it, whether or not that’ll change—and given tonight’s events, I fully expect the marriage to be annulled—we’re married. I can’t just pretend that we’re not, no matter how drunk I was.

I made that decision, and I have to live with the consequences. He didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark..

I pull out my cellphone and punch in Luke’s number, my heart hammering so hard my fingers are shaking.

If I can just get him alone, and calm, and explain everything to him, really come clean and let it all out, maybe he’ll understand where I was coming from. Or maybe he won’t, and he’ll get even angrier, but I have to at least try.

The call rings and rings, but Luke doesn’t pick up.

This is probably the tenth or fifteenth try now, so I can only assume that he’s ignoring me.

Have I lost him forever?

Isn’t that what I freaking wanted anyway?

Holy shit, everything is so complicated. Why is everything so fucked up? Why can’t life just be simple?

I lie there in the dark, unable to muster up the strength to get up and switch the lights on but not knowing what to do with myself. I’m exhausted, but I won’t be able to sleep. I’m hungry because I was too embarrassed to stay in the restaurant after the incident, but I don’t have anything to eat.

So, I just stare at the yellow stains on my popcorn ceiling. And feel sorry for myself.

I need to speak with someone—someone who doesn’t hate my guts.

As I pick up my phone to call Claire, I notice an unread email I missed.

I open it and read.

The email was sent this afternoon, and my blood runs cold. Of all the days for that paperwork to finally turn up, he’s going to see it tonight.

I call up Claire with trembling fingers, barely holding it together.

“Hey there Mrs. Alder. How’s married life treating you?” she asks chirpily.

“Claire, I’ve messed it all up—everything.” I burst into tears as the story comes tumbling out of my mouth. “He found out I was pregnant tonight, but in the worst possible way, and now he thinks I’ve been deliberately hiding it from him, and to make things even worse, I got an email from the lawyer and the paperwork has finally been delivered to him.”

“Sweetie, slow down just a little here. Take a few deep breaths, and let’s go through this, okay?” Claire pauses for a moment and gives me time to compose myself a little. When she speaks, her voice is gentle. “First off, isn’t that what you wanted in the first place? The marriage to get cancelled, I mean. Why are you so upset about it? You got what you wanted.”

“Well . . . yeah, kind of,” I sob, “but I didn’t want him to find out like this. I wanted it to be different, not for him to hate my guts. Now he despises me, and he knows about the baby. He’s got the annulment paperwork and he’s probably getting his lawyer to review it right now and . . .”

“Tessa, babe, just stop,” Claire interrupts. “Stop, okay? This isn’t helping anything at all. So do you or don’t you want to annul the marriage? I’m a little confused here.”

I put my head in my hands, my butt resting heavily on the couch. “I . . . I don’t know. Things have been going . . . kind of well between us. He’s not who I thought he was, Claire. He’s kind, he’s funny, he’ll probably make a great Dad. I’ve sort of been having second thoughts the more I get to know him. But it’s too late now. He’ll never take me back.”

“Bullshit,” Claire immediately counters. “Tessa, he’s crazy about you. Despite everything, despite you telling him you want to annul the marriage, he’s never stopped trying to change your mind. What you’re going to do, is you’re going to lay it all out for him. Tell him exactly how you feel, exactly what happened. Come clean, even if he’s not going to like some of the things you’ll tell him. One-hundred percent honesty, and you can still save this thing.”

“He’s not answering my calls,” I say glumly. “I’ve been trying to get hold of him, but it just rings and rings.”

“Well, you keep damn well trying,” Claire says. “The richest, most eligible bachelor in America, and you think a few calls is enough? Hell no, girl, you need to go over there and sing under his damn window, Romeo-style, if you have to. Pay for a sky-writing plane. Break into his freaking house and force him to listen to you. I don’t even care, but you are not giving up.”

“But—”

“But my ass, Tessa. I’m hanging up this call now. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You fucked up, but you can fix this. You’re amazing, you’re beautiful, and he’s crazy about you. Make it work.”

The line goes dead and she’s gone.

Tough love, for sure, but maybe that’s exactly what I need.

It’s probably too late even for tough love though. He’s going to fire me, divorce me, and probably even take my baby away from me. How can I have fucked everything up this badly?

My mind goes over everything that has unfolded between us. Has it really only been a few weeks? It feels like longer.

A dark part of me wishes I’d taken advantage of my status as Mrs. Alder when I had the chance. Maybe then he wouldn’t be able to get rid of me so easily. If he’d bought me a house or something, then at least the legal side of things, the division of assets or whatever, would’ve slowed the process down.

Shame on you, Tess, I chide myself.

I pace around the apartment and end up staring out of the window. There’s the InFini building—soon to be renamed Alder Tower—lit up in the distance. I can even see that some of the lights are on inside from here.

Is Luke inside? Or has he gone home? Is he in there right now, conferring with his lawyers, working out how to get rid of me as efficiently and cheaply as possible?

Even if that doesn’t happen, he’s definitely going to fire me. He won’t want me as his PA, not after what’s happened. There’s a chance I’ll never see him again.

Claire’s right—I need to fix this. If it’s not too late. I can at least try.

I perch on the windowsill and stare out at the city skyline, trying to come up with a plan. Nothing is okay, and it’s all my fault. I just hope it’s not too late to fix things.