It was late, the room dark, but I couldn't sleep. I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, arms crossed behind my head. The house was quiet, broken only by the occasional, subdued pop from the refrigerator down in the kitchen, so distant that most wouldn't notice it, but I knew every creak, every sound this house made.

Kristin should be fast asleep in her suite of rooms at the far end of the hall. After her announcement in my office, the refusal to even consider a paternity test, and most especially, since she had literally tattled on me to my father, and yes, even after our engagement party, I didn't want her sleeping in my bed. I didn't want to sleep with her, have sex with her, or even kiss her. She didn't even put up a fuss, merely smiled and said it was probably for the best anyway, because she didn't want me to see how "big and ugly and bloated she got" as the baby inside her started to grow.

As had been the case since Megan walked back into my life, I couldn't help comparing one with the other. When I saw Megan, I compared her to Kristin. When I saw Kristin, I compared her to Megan. Kristin was challenging, beautiful, temperamental, and liked getting her own way. I knew she wasn't all bad, but my opinion of her had been skewed since that day when she walked into my office and bluntly announced that she was pregnant and we had to get married.

I couldn't understand the rush, not in this day and age. Even more, I resented her for taking the situation to my dad. His heavy-handed method of dealing with the entire situation was ridiculous. So, what was preventing me from putting a stop to it all?

I was a chicken shit. Plain and simple. I detested myself for my weakness, for my lack of self-confidence, my uncertainty that I had what it took to make it on my own. To be successful on my own. I wondered if, subconsciously, I was afraid that in many ways I wouldn't be able to live up to my father's success—to my own ideals. That I would fail if I struck out on my own. But did I want his legacy? Did I want to screw women and then leave them high and dry when they got pregnant? I had always worn a cover, but the first time I didn't… I groaned out loud.

Everybody thinks that being rich is wonderful, and it is, in many ways. Unlike Megan, I didn't have to worry about how I was going to make a rent payment. If I wanted a car, I'd go buy one. We had both grown up in the same world, but due to her tragic situation, she had learned to do without. And she was surviving just fine, wasn't she? She was a strong, self-confident, and well put-together woman who knew how to work hard, how to devote herself not only to her own goals, but to make her mother's life easier.

So what the hell was my problem?

Was I really going to choose between Megan and my inheritance, my wealth? Should I just let sleeping dogs lie and accept my responsibility for having sex with Kristin and knocking her up? That was my baby she was carrying. Didn't I owe her, the future mother of my child, at least a modicum of respect and consideration?

I flopped over onto my side, staring out the window into the darkest of nights. That's how I felt inside. Black, vast, and empty. Why did Megan have to show up in my life? Why did I have to hire her?

"Shut the fuck up," I growled. I couldn't blame any of this on Megan. This was my own doing. All of it.

I had told Megan the truth about my relationship with Kristin—that I didn't love Kristin and wanted to continue seeing Megan. I had meant it when I said I loved her. When I was with her, everything seemed so bright, so sure. But when she was gone, when I was by myself, like now, lying here thinking, perhaps too much, I found myself wavering. This wasn't fair. Not to Megan and not to Kristin. Not even to myself.

I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. I knew Megan well enough to know that she didn't want to be any man's mistress. I knew she was waiting for me to break it off with Kristin. But would I?

Could I?

On just a few hours’ sleep, I rose, and went to the office, and tried to bury myself in work. I was successful, for the most part, although every time I stopped, my dilemma loomed in front of me. Dilemma. Dilemma: a situation that prompted a difficult choice, especially undesirable ones. And that was the conundrum. Either I chose to stay with Kristin and keep my inheritance, or I chose to stay with Megan, break off the engagement with Kristin, and lose my inheritance.

"You're a jerk," I muttered to myself, focusing once again on the contract in front of me.

I managed to struggle through the remaining couple of hours of my workday, nearly dreading the thought of going home. Home didn't have the same meaning to me that it used to. Not since Kristin had arrived. All she talked about was the baby shower, the bridal shower, and the upcoming wedding plans. Not once since she had arrived had we just sat down at the table or on the sofa and talked about what we expected out of this relationship.

During the past few days, she had been acting oddly. I didn't know if it was the stress of planning the wedding. Although, I didn't know why it would have been because she was supposed to be relegating the bulk of it to Megan to handle. Was it hormone surges caused by her pregnancy? I had no idea. All I knew was that she was acting a bit… offish with me. She snapped at the staff, snapped at me, and refused to eat with me down in the dining room. She insisted that my cook bring her a dinner tray every evening.

I wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, at least more than lately, and I was seriously considering having a good private, sit-down talk with her, to tell her I didn't appreciate the way she treated me or my staff. I knew I could take what she dished out. After all, I'd gotten her pregnant so in a way, maybe I deserved her fits of pique. It wasn't like she had been planning on a pregnancy, either. I supposed she was struggling with changes in her life too. I had to remember that. It wasn't just all about me.

I had to admit that my lack of communication was as much my fault as hers. Maybe tonight I would ask her to sit down, talk—

I heard a low commotion outside of my office and glanced up just as the door opened. Kristin stood there, staring at me. My heart sank. The last time this had happened she had dropped a bombshell. What was it this time? She closed the door softly and sat down in the chair in front of my desk. I leaned back in my chair.

"Kristin, what brings you—"

"You've been seeing that slut behind my back, haven't you?"

I stared at her, dumbfounded. "What?"

"Megan." She shook her head, a sneer twisting her lips. "I know what's going on between you and Megan. Admit it!"

I frowned, playing dumb. "Kristin what are you talking about? You're being ridiculous—"

"Am I?"

I stared at her while she stared at me. I felt a cold knot forming in my stomach. How the hell had she found out? And should I—

"Don't be surprised to get a call from your father at some point," she snapped.

"What?" I felt as if she had just gut-punched me. No, kidney-punched me, and then stomped on me. Was this the way it was done? Running to my dad every time I did something she didn't like? Granted, what I was doing with Megan wasn't right, and I knew that. But right now, that fact felt like it was beside the point.

"Kristin, I don't appreciate—"

"It ends, Scott. It ends now, or you're going to regret it!"

With that, she stood abruptly and walked to the door, her back stiff. She opened it, slipped out, and then closed it softly behind her.

What the hell—

My desk phone rang and I picked it up. "What is it?" I muttered, my voice harsher than I intended.

Before she could reply my door opened again. I expected it to be Kristin, but it wasn't. It was my dad. I closed my eyes, sighed, and once again leaned back in my chair, shaking my head. Oh my God. What now? But I already knew.

"Here's the way it's going to be," he said without preamble. "I know all about you and Megan, but it's going to end once and for all, and I mean right now."

I stared at him, so many thoughts rushing through my head. I wanted to call him a hypocrite, this man who had stepped out on my mother I didn't know how many times. But I kept my mouth shut, the anger slowly building inside me.

"If you don't call it quits and get rid of her and devote yourself to Kristin, and the baby you fathered, I'll fire you, right now. Do you understand?"

With that, he too abruptly turned, left my office, and shut the door behind him, not quite as softly as Kristin had.

I sat there for several moments, just staring at that door. I knew what I should do. I knew it with every emotional fiber of my being. But my logical side? I think I had always known that it would only be a matter of time before something like this happened, a day like this arrived.

No more sitting on the fence, trying to keep everyone happy, trying to play both sides. I had to make a decision. I had to face the dilemma looming in front of me, and I had two choices.

Accept responsibility for my actions and accept the engagement and upcoming marriage with Kristin—and remaining faithful to her—and keeping the promise I had made to myself that I would not ever become like my father.

Or, I would break my promise and continue sneaking around to see the woman that I had come to love and let the chips fall where they may.

I shook my head again, leaned forward, and placed my forehead against the stack of contract papers on my desk blotter.

Shit.