Diandra refuses to tell me what’s going on. Which forces me to fake-smile through the photo-shoot with Amaya and Kent.

The background is beautiful—a golden sunset, a stormy blue sea, a majestic lighthouse representing my cousin’s once-in-a-lifetime love and how it always leads him home.

It’s great and I’m sure the pictures will be stunning, but I can’t get my mind off the scuffle between me and Thomas in the hotel hallway.

Zora’s brother had death in his eyes. There’s no way that was a random act.

“Alright.” I yank my bow tie down and unbutton the top three buttons of my shirt. “The shoot is done and those two lovebirds are none-the-wiser. Pay up.”

“Sorry. It’s not my secret to tell.”

“Diandra.” I growl.

She doesn’t even flinch. “I have three brothers, Will. You’ll need to try harder than that to scare me.”

“We made a deal. I keep my mouth shut and play along during the photo-shoot and you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Diandra arches both eyebrows. “Where’s your car? There’s somewhere you need to be.”

I pester her with questions in an effort to drag the truth out of her, but the woman’s a steel trap. I can’t get even one clue as Diandra directs me through an unknown neighborhood in the city.

Ten minutes later, we stop in front of an apartment. It’s large and imposing, standing several miles over the other houses on the block. Despite the building’s cold face, waving coconut trees and hibiscus bushes abound.

A smile grows as I observe the sprawling lawn. In Belize, even ordinary residential buildings look like scenes for a commercial.

Diandra urges me out of the car and leads me to the sixth floor where she stops, inhales a breath and knocks on a green door.

Her expression is grave when she turns to me. “Alright, Wilson, listen up. Two things can happen when that door opens.”

“What are they?”

“Either you live or you die.”

My hand inches toward my throat. “Do I at least get an explanation first?”

“We’ll see.”

The door swings open before I can decide if I want to stay and find out what this is all about.

Zora’s brother fills the doorway. He’s got dark skin, short hair and a permanent scowl. As soon as I see his face, I remember the fight Kent and Amaya had about inviting him to the wedding.

In the end, Amaya won.

I study him while Thomas glares at me. We’re about the same size and height. I know I can take him based on my boxing skills alone, but that fierce expression warns he won’t go down easy.

“Come in,” Thomas says in a gravelly tone.

I straighten my shoulders and stride inside. It’s a regular bachelor’s pad—monochromatic color scheme, big sofas, even bigger TV.

But admiring his décor isn’t my priority, especially when my eyes are drawn to Zora. She’s sitting in the couch. There’s a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, hiding her green dress from view.

This cowering, trembling figure is nothing like the woman who stalked into the garden today like she owned it.

I saw Zora the moment she arrived. Not because I wanted to notice her, but because that dress demanded my attention.

I wasn’t the only one caught in her snare. Several men swiveled completely around when she came near, their gazes fastened on her as she pranced by and took her seat.

Zora King is, unquestionably, a woman. The way she filled out that gown left an impression. She’s annoying, high-strung, brash, but attractive. With clothes on and off.

Flashes of our night together burst to mind, but the memories feel sleazy while I’m sitting in front of her fuming brother. I brush the thoughts away and focus on Zora as she is, dressed and troubled, right now.

Something’s wrong.

She’s trembling. Eyes boring into the ground like the secrets of the world are embedded in the tiles. She’s so engrossed she doesn’t even notice me. Or maybe she’s so upset she just doesn’t care.

I’m getting a bad feeling about this.

“Zora,” Diandra flies straight across the room and sits next to her, “are you okay?”

Zora glances up. Our eyes lock. The level of distress on her face sends warning bells clanging through my head. This isn’t some prank or elaborate plan to get back at me.

Whatever’s going down right now is about to change my life.

“Sit.” Thomas flicks his hand toward the sofa.

I listen even though, on a normal day, I’d stand just for spite.

“Tell him, Zora.”

She licks her lips. Forces her gaze to mine. Our eye contact lasts all of a second before she looks away again. Her brown fingers fumble over her lap. She’s clearly nervous. Which makes me nervous.

“What is this—?”

“I’m pregnant.”

A sudden punch to the gut would have been less shocking. “What?”

“You took the test?” Diandra asks.

Zora nods. “I took two more just to be sure. It never changed. It… I’m pregnant.”

“Are you saying—is the baby mine?”

“Who else would it be for?” Thomas asks with an edge of steel beneath his calm tone.

I jump to my feet. “Can I talk to you, Zora? Just the two of us?”

She nods.

I half-expect Thomas to stop us, but he just leans back and says nothing as we walk up the stairs to what I assume is his bedroom.

This time, I am physically unable to notice anything but Zora. The moment she closes the door, I run a hand through my hair. “Tell me this isn’t real. I can’t have a baby right now.”

“Do you think I wanted this?” she snaps.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yeah, but… how do you know it’s mine?”

“Because,” she hisses, her voice fiery enough to start a blaze, “you’re the only man I’ve been with since… you’re the only one.”

I latch on to her near confession. “Since who? Were you with some other guy?”

“Yeah. Eight months ago. It was the last time I saw him. If it was his, I would have been ready to give birth by now. Best I can tell, I’m six weeks pregnant.”

My eyes fall to her stomach. I can’t even see a bulge. “It doesn’t look that big.”

“Give it a few more weeks.” She blows out a breath and paces to the other end of the room. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Neither can I.”

“You used protection, right?” She shrieks. “I mean, of course you did. I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t.”

“Of course I used protection. Who do you think I…?”

Zora stops. “What?”

I rub the back of my neck. “Maybe I didn’t the third time—”

“Stop. Just stop. I can’t breathe.”

My thoughts are racing but it looks like Zora is freaking out enough for the two of us. She’s presented me with a problem. It’s my job to find the solution.

I’m a programmer. The world functions by principles and codes just like computers do.

Principle 1: if a man gets a girl pregnant, he should take responsibility for the kid.

Principle 2: even if a man doesn’t mean to get a girl pregnant and it’s an accident, he should still take responsibility for the kid.

I can take a paternity test later. For now, all I can do is trust that Zora is telling me the truth.

“Don’t worry, okay? Focus on keeping yourself and the baby healthy. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“No, you don’t understand. I can’t be pregnant. I’m a nurse. I’m up for promotion. If I take three months maternity leave.” She shakes her head vehemently. “I can’t.”

“So what do you want to do?” I draw closer and say the words even though they pain me. “Do you want to… get rid of it?”

Her expression crumbles. “Get rid of it?”

“Zora…”

She starts to sink and I rush toward her, holding her up. Sweat forms on her forehead. She clinches her fingers into my shirt, pinching my skin.

I ignore the pain and focus on the woman falling apart in my arms. “It’s just an option. I want the baby, but if you—”

“No.”

“No?”

She sucks in a deep breath. “I can’t lose it. Not this time.”

“This time?”

Zora glances up, her eyes filled with determination. She straightens and brushes me off so my hand falls limply to my side. Her voice is far more confident than it was before when she declares, “I’m having this baby.”

“Okay.”

“But,” her gaze falters, “don’t feel obligated to stick around because of it. When the child is born, we can negotiate visitation rights and work something out. We don’t love each other and this was, obviously, not planned.”

“So what?”

Clearly taken aback, she stares at me.

I step closer. “We made that child together. And even though you’re carrying it alone, I’m not going to walk away.”

“Wilson—”

“I’ll rearrange my schedule. Figure out a way to work here and back at HQ.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I should be in Belize for… whatever.” ‘Whatever’ is the only word that comes to mind because I know next to nothing about prenatal care or childbirth.

Zora steps back. “Stop. Don’t force yourself. I know you don’t want to.”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what needs to be done.”

“But—”

My phone buzzes before she can finish that. Zora snaps her mouth shut.

My first instinct is to ignore the ringing, but when I pull out my phone I see that it’s Kent calling. For a while there, I forgot that his wedding was today.

“I should take this.”

Zora wraps her slender arms around her torso. “Of course.”

“Hello?” I walk to the other side of the room. “What’s up, Kent?”

“Dude, where are you? We’re doing the toasts and the best man isn’t here.”

There’s a knock at the door and Diandra calls out, “Wilson! We need to go!”

“Wait,” Kent’s voice shrieks in my ear, “you’re with Diandra? I thought you were starting something with Violet?”

I wince. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Kent, are you and Di—”

I hang up on him and turn to face Zora. “I need to go.”

“Of course.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” I promise. “Try to stay calm.”

“Yeah.”

I open the door and almost collide with Diandra. Guilt stamps her face as she grins nervously at me. “Hey, you guys work everything out?”

I stride past her without answering the question. “Let’s go.”

Thomas is waiting for me by the front door. He stands in my way and stares me down. “What are you going to do?”

Diandra grabs his arm and tugs. “Thomas, I know you want to beat Wilson to a pulp and I understand that but we really need to go. Please. For Amaya.”

He lingers for a second, but then steps aside, nostrils flaring and disapproval glistening in his dark eyes.

Diandra urges me out the door and we race back to the hotel.

I have no idea what I say during Amaya and Kent’s toast—probably something along the lines of what an inspiration they are, how true love exists and other cheesy phrases I’ve heard in movies.

All I can think about is Zora and the fact that, from now on, my life will be marked by the night we slept together.

Violet’s been vocal about marrying a man without children. She’s my dream girl, the woman I want by my side the day Kent gives a toast at my wedding.

Did my mistake with Zora ruin my chances of a future with Violet?