I’m grateful my scrubs aren’t fitted because my stomach bulge has become a full-blown beer belly. At least the morning sickness hasn’t been as bad lately.

Thank God for small mercies.

Getting pregnant was not a part of the plan, but every day the reality of it soaks in a little further. Maybe by the time I’m ready to give birth, it won’t be as shocking.

I bop my head to the music pouring from my phone as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. Wilson and I are supposed to meet tonight, and I need an outfit that says ‘classy baby mama’ rather than ‘nervous one-night-stand who didn’t sign up for this’.

We’ve texted a bit since Amaya’s wedding, but it’s clear Wilson isn’t too thrilled about this pregnancy. Or maybe I’m the one he’s not too thrilled with.

I’m sure if Violet had his baby, Wilson would be over the moon. He’d probably paste it all over social media. Shout it from the rooftops. Hire a freaking blimp to float over a stadium with the words ‘we’re pregnant’ fluttering from a banner.

I’m jealous, but not because I want his affection or his love. There’s not even a flicker of hope that such a thing is possible for us. Wilson’s been honest from the start. He has eyes for Violet only.

As a girl who’s been cheated on multiple times, I respect that dedication. I just wish I didn’t have to feel like the evil villain crushing their love story beneath my spiky red heels.

Why can’t I be the Cinderella, rather than the evil, knocked up stepsister?

My music cuts out, replaced with a blaring ring. I pad to the dresser and lean over, spying Thomas’s name on the screen.

I’ve communicated more frequently with Wilson than with my brother this past week. Whether Thomas was intentionally avoiding me or just busy on his quest to ‘fix’ my life, I didn’t bother him.

I pick up. “Hello?”

“Are you home?”

“Yeah.” I glance at my hair in the mirror. The strands are wound around curlers and protrude like an alien skull. “But I’m kind of busy.”

“Doing what?”

I resent his nosiness but answer anyway. “If you must know, I’m meeting Wilson tonight. We’re having dinner.”

“Like a date?”

The frustrated sigh escapes despite my effort to hold it back. “No, it’s not a date, Thomas. It’s more of a… business meeting. Look, I appreciate your concern but I’m a big girl. I don’t need to explain everything to you.”

“Then explain this. Were you drunk when you slept with Wilson?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Were you?” he presses.

I hesitate because, again, no girl wants to discuss the details of her sex life with her big brother. “Thomas…”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I wasn’t drunk. I was a little tipsy, but not to the point where I couldn’t think for myself. Why are you asking me this?”

Thomas curses. “I spoke to Wilson today.”

“What? Why? What did you say?”

“I told him to marry you.”

The strength leaves my legs and I fall to the edge of my bed. My nails dig into the fluffy comforter. “Are… are you crazy?”

“Do you have a better idea? At least if he marries you I’ll know the baby will have two stable parents in his life.”

“Thomas, you can’t fix this by forcing Wilson to marry me. Have you thought of the effect it will have on the kid growing up with two people who don’t love each other? That’s just as traumatizing.”

“It’s better than not having a father.”

“Stop. Just stop projecting your own insecurities on my unborn child.”

“Are you blind, Zora? What happily ever after are you hoping for? News flash, there are none. Your options go from bad to worse at this point.”

“How uplifting.”

“This isn’t my insecurity talking. These are facts backed up by research. All you have to look forward to is financial, emotional and mental strain. You’re going to take care of a human being alone, even though you didn’t make him alone. Does that seem fair? I did what I had to for your future.”

“I made a mistake, okay? I get that. Actions have consequences and I’m living proof, but a shotgun marriage is not the answer.”

“Then what’s your answer, huh? Should I watch you struggle to date with a child while Wilson goes gallivanting around with some other girl? Should I watch your body change and get stretch marks while he doesn’t even get a scar? Should I let him get away with this because of your pride?”

“Yes, you should, Thomas. It sucks that his body won’t change and his reputation won’t suffer from having a kid out of wedlock, but I’m not trying to fight society’s stupid double standards. I just want peace. Okay? Can I have that?”

“That’s all I want for you.”

“Then forget about this marriage thing. It’s not going to happen, and if you were going to present that to Wilson you should have spoken to me first. I’m the one who’ll have to live with him.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I blow out a breath. “I need to go.”

“There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy, Zora. Believe me.”

“I do,” I whisper and then hang up.

My conversation with Thomas sucks all the wind out of my sails. Before, I was anxious about my meeting with Wilson. Now, I’m dreading it.

How can I look him in the eyes again knowing my brother tried to pawn me off like a mail-order bride in the Wild West?

I switch my modest black gown with puffed sleeves and a knee-length hemline to a soft rose pantsuit. The suit makes me feel more powerful and aggressive. Less like a damsel, more like the knight.

There’s not a doubt in my mind that Wilson shot down my brother’s marriage proposal on the spot, and the last thing I want is him pitying me because he thinks I’m desperate.

Despite Thomas’s fears, I can handle this on my own. It’s time to rebuild my image. After all, the appearance of a strong, independent woman is all I have.

I head downstairs, stop on the sidewalk and strike my power pose when I hear tires crunching over gravel. A sporty little Jeep parks in the space next to me and my next-door neighbor pops out.

My arms fall as I sheepishly wave. “Mrs. Jensen.”

She adjusts the glasses on her flared nose and shoots me a disapproving look. “Zora.”

My smile cracks when she stares me down and finally disappears inside. I rub my temple and wince. How embarrassing.

A moment later, another car approaches. This time, I don’t even bother with the power pose and just stand still, waiting to verify the identity of the driver.

The door pops open and Wilson steps out. He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt and jeans. Dressy casual. It works on him. Way too much. My heart does that little thudding thing it always does when faced with an attractive man.

I hate that Wilson still appeals to my body, but all I can do is pretend that night never happens and hope I get over these pesky, superficial feelings eventually.

“Why are you waiting outside?” he asks. “I was going to walk up.”

“I needed some air.”

“Oh.”

I study him. His expression is mild, if not curious. There’s no hint that he’s holding Thomas’s marriage threat against me.

Wilson gestures to the boxy SUV. “Shall we?”

“Sure.”

We move toward the car, but after a while, I realize he’s walking in the same direction. I freeze and then glance at the driver’s side door, which is blaring open. “Um, am I supposed to drive?”

“No, Zora.” He cracks a handsome smile as he opens my door for me. “This is your seat.”

I’m a little thrown off by the gallant gesture. No past boyfriend has held the car door open for me, and I have no idea why Wilson—a man I’m not dating—would break that streak.

As soon as he slides in behind the wheel, I turn to him. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” he asks absently, focusing on driving out of the parking lot.

“Open my door.”

He gives me a little glance. “Can’t I do that?”

“No, I guess. Yeah, if you want.”

That small smile again. What’s going on here? Did he accept the marriage proposal? Or is this some plot to curry my favor so he can ask for something big at dinner?

I gasp. What if he wants me to sign over all my maternal rights to him and Violet so they can raise the child together?

“I’m not giving you the kid.” I blurt. My hand falls protectively over my stomach. “In case you’re wondering.”

Wilson laughs. “What? Where did that come from?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I counter his question with one of my own.

“Can’t I be nice to you?”

I study the planes of his face and the black beard that makes him look like a lumberjack. “I know Thomas visited you today. I know what he asked for.”

“So?”

“Aren’t you angry? Or at least annoyed?”

“No, and even if I was, that’s between me and Thomas. It has nothing to do with us.”

I let out a breath. “In case you’re worried, I don’t want to marry you. If you were the last man on earth, I still wouldn’t marry you.”

He smirks. “Noted.”

I settle back in my chair, feeling lighter. Wilson and I have never really had a deep conversation. At least, not one free from arguments. He’s being carefree and jovial around me, the way he is with Amaya and even Diandra.

It makes me happy. Gives me hope that, in the future, we can be cordial if not full-blown friends.

“So where are we going?”

“Well, I was going to take you to the park near the hotel. Kent swears he and Amaya had great conversations there, but I changed my mind.” He slides his gaze over my outfit. “So I’m taking us to Paparazzi’s instead.”

I run my hands against my trousers. “Great. I love their food.”

Awkwardness descends because, even though Wilson didn’t state it outright, he suggested that I’m overdressed. Which makes me feel self-conscious. Again.

I can’t be the only one uncomfortable here. “Have you talked to Violet yet?”

“Uh… no.” Wilson fumbles over the steering wheel. “It’s been a crazy week. Haven’t really had the time. She’s busy too.”

“I didn’t see her at the wedding. She must be very busy.”

“Yeah.” Wilson frowns.

Violet was invited to the wedding and sent her regards, but we both know why she didn’t show up. It must suck loving someone so much when they don’t care about you the same way. At least in my situation, I know exactly where Wilson’s loyalty lies.

Feeling sorry for him, I change the subject. “Have you seen Amaya’s photos from the honeymoon? They look like they’re having fun.”

“Yeah.” Wilson visibly relaxes. “Kent’s situation is… unique. I honestly didn’t think he’d ever find someone who would be able to understand and not be overwhelmed by his amnesia.”

“Amaya’s the definition of unique.”

He slants me a look. “Was that a compliment or…?”

I laugh at his confusion. “That was a joke.”

“I hope the kid doesn’t get your sense of humor.”

“Excuse me? I slayed my primary school talent show with my stand up comedy. You have no idea who you’re talking to.”

Wilson chuckles. “You did comedy for your school’s talent show?”

“Damn straight. Everyone sang and danced, but the teachers always put me last because they knew I’d deliver.”

Wilson’s face is getting red now. “Stop. Please, I can’t breathe.”

I grin at him, my heart loosening for the first time since I learned I was pregnant.

Thomas is wrong. We’re taking the long route, but both Wilson and I are going to get our happily ever afters someday. I believe it.