Chapter 3

In our third year together, I got pregnant.

I was over the moon when I broke the news to Noah.

He held me tight, whispering sweet promises:

"I'll take care of both of you. I swear."

Not long after, he delivered the crushing blow.

He claimed the baby had anencephaly—a fatal neural tube defect.

He said the doctor told us we had no choice but to terminate the pregnancy.

That was the first time I ever saw Noah cry.

Back at the foster home, even when a bunch of older kids beat him black and blue, he just bit his lip and endured it in silence.

Yet when he broke the news to me, he wept like his heart was breaking:

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

"We'll have a healthy baby one day. I promise."

Losing that baby shattered what little sleep I had left.

Whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was the ghost of our unborn child.

And night after night, Noah pulled me into his arms to comfort me.

"It was a lie."

Noah's voice over the speaker was chillingly clear. "Our baby was completely healthy."

He paused.

"Chloe and I were already dating back then. When she found out you were pregnant, she threw a fit and threatened to leave me."

"I couldn't let her go. So I paid off the doctor to forge the test results."

The world stopped spinning.

The truth hit me like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of my lungs and freezing the blood in my veins.

Because he couldn't let her go, he chose to deceive me.

He traded our healthy, living child for an illicit affair with Chloe.

"Maya, I didn't want to do it," Noah's voice drifted out, airy and nonchalant.

"I loved you, but I couldn't stop falling for Chloe either."

"It was the only compromise that made sense."

In the background, Chloe sniffled and whined:

"I know it hurts."

"But you always said what's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours."

"My baby is your baby!"

The two of them played good cop, bad cop on the recording, painting me as the unreasonable villain.

Losing my mind, I bombarded Noah's FaceTime.

He picked up almost immediately.

His face was flushed, and his neck was covered in dark, fresh hickeys.

I froze.

Noah smirked, making no effort to hide what they had just been doing.

"Chloe had a nightmare. I was just calming her down."

"Did you finish the second story?"

My heart felt splintered into a million pieces. My voice was a shredded rasp as I forced the words out.

Why would he do this to me?

Why would he do that to our child?

Back at the foster home, we swore an oath to protect each other for life.

How did we end up here?

Before I could speak, Chloe let out a breathy gasp from off-screen.

Panting, she whined playfully, "Noah, did you forget to tell Maya the big news?"

"You promised me!"

Noah reached over and affectionately tapped her nose, whispering an apology.

Then he casually glanced back at his screen. "Maya, Chloe doesn't want my attention divided."

"So I had a vasectomy."

"Chloe's baby will be the only child I ever have in this life."

"You just have to accept it."

A dead cold settled deep into my bones.

I didn't even notice when the call disconnected.

All I remember was that on the first night of the long weekend, I swallowed three handfuls of sleeping pills.

When the sirens wailed in the distance, my eyes finally fluttered shut.

This time, I didn't need Noah's bedtime stories to fall asleep.