Waiting for Drew to come home to New York was a unique kind of torture. It was like an emotional purgatory in which I constantly told myself that maybe Aly was right, and things could turn out just fine. Actually, the mental limbo was a whole lot like the one I’d been steeped in the first night I met Drew – when I was still trying to figure out where I stood with Mike.

God.

That name was like a foreign language to me at this point. Once upon a time, it represented my world. Now, it couldn’t be more of an afterthought because not only was I in love with Drew Maddox, I was carrying his child.

It was so unreal to me that I kept bursting into tears without warning.

Because the truth was that as completely unexpected as this was, I wanted this child. With Aly, I’d taken several more tests to confirm it, but by the second one, I had already made up my mind on the matter.

I was going to be a mother in about nine months, and nothing anyone said was going to change that. I wanted my own family. I wanted a son or a daughter whom I could shower with all I love I missed from my own mom.

With the Empires game playing in the living room, I stood against the kitchen counter, cradling my belly in my arms and crying again when I imagined the life this child could have with both of his parents.

In my imagination, it was idyllic and perfect. In my mind, I vividly pictured an emerald-eyed little boy playing catch with a father he worshipped and adored. I imagined us sitting with ice cream on the couch, watching Daddy on TV.

I imagined a lot of things that deep in my heart, I didn’t think were going to happen.

Yet at the same time, I held out hope.

It wasn’t purgatory, actually – it was hell. And by the time I heard that elevator humming up to the penthouse, I was at the edge of my sanity. As I waited for Drew, I fought my own negativity with all the mights and maybes that Aly had fed me with.

Maybe he’ll be excited to be a father.

He might be craving the stability.

Maybe this will be his push to realize that he loves you.

When the elevator doors finally opened, I was standing in the middle of the kitchen with my breath hitched in my throat.

As usual, Drew’s eyes found me immediately, and just like that, those steely eyes I had watched all night on TV warmed over. When he smiled, I felt the emotion well in my chest.

“Hey, you,” he said, sounding that distinct kind of post-game tired that I’d come to love so damned much. I closed my eyes as he floated over to me, pulling me into his arms and holding me tight as he murmured into my neck about how much he missed me.

I closed my eyes as I melted into his embrace, my breaths becoming hiccups as I fantasized that he felt two heartbeats pressed against him instead of just one.

“Baby. What’s going on?” Drew pulled away, frowning when he caught the look in my eyes. He brushed back the hair from my face. “Evie. Did something happen?” he asked, his tone hardening as if he was already preparing to take care of something or someone. When I shook my head, he thumbed a tear from my cheek. “Then what is it, Evie? Tell me so I can fix it.”

My heart twisted at his words, and I gazed up at him. He was so damned gorgeous as he searched me with those sparkling green eyes. He looked so full of warmth and love and concern, and all these things I’d never have expected to see in his face before.

I told myself it could be fine. I repeated it a thousand times in my head before just blurting it out.

“Drew, I’m pregnant.”

My heart promptly broke when his hand dropped from my cheek. I forced myself not to cry as I watched him immediately step back.

“Evie. What are you talking about?” He looked at me like I had lost my mind. “That’s not possible. We used protection every time.”

“I – I don’t know…” I trailed off, realizing I’d never paused to wonder how this could have happened. “I don’t know how it happened, Drew. Maybe a condom broke. I don’t know. All I know is that I took a pregnancy test as a joke with Aly, and before I knew what was happening, she was telling me that I’m the one who’s pregnant.”

Drew stood a full two steps back now as he stared at me. I felt my pulse rising with every second of silence that passed – with every second that his gaze returned from warm to steely.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” I hissed.

“Like what.”

“Like I’m just another person in your life you can’t trust. Don’t you dare look at me like I somehow planned this, Drew.”

“That’s not how I’m looking at you.”

“It is,” I seethed, the knife in my heart twisting as Drew fell silent, not even bothering to deny it any further. I let a tear fall as he turned away from me, palming the top of his head as he stared at the wall. I watched him shake his head, as if he refused to believe this.

This nightmare.

“You think this is easy for me, Drew?” I whispered. “I agonized for days about this. A part of me knew you were going to react exactly like this, and it’s been eating at me for so long that all I want right now is for you to hold me. I just want you to hug me again and say you can fix this, but you won’t. Right?” I demanded, my voice trembling and the tears falling as I watched him stand there coldly.

It was silent for so long, but when he finally spoke, I wished he hadn’t.

“This wasn’t part of the plan, Evie.”

Ouch.

I hadn’t thought this could hurt more, but apparently Drew wasn’t finished.

“A lot of things haven’t been a part of the plan,” I replied shakily. “I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, and I did. You weren’t supposed to care about me, and you do. This baby wasn’t supposed to happen, but he’s here.” Drew shot me a look. “She’s here. Whatever it is, it’s not going anywhere.”

“You want this baby?” Drew asked.

I stared at him.

Four words and I was officially shattered. To pieces. Because it was clear to me at this point that we were done here.

I wanted our child, Drew didn’t, and that was that.

“Where are you going?” he asked when I turned to go upstairs. I was numb at this point, and I barely recognized my own voice as I answered.

“I’m going to sleep, Drew.”

“Go to my room.”

“No,” I replied harshly, though a part of me held out hope that he’d stop me – or that he’d sneak into my room, lift me out of my bed, and bring me to his.

I held out hope the entire night.

But in the morning, when I woke up in my own bed in the guest room, I lost that last naïve dash of faith.

And with a glance at my empty bags by the closet, I knew what was left for me to do.