Page 37 of What Goes Around

Pregnant.

She watched my reaction with open delight, her fingers smoothing over the curve like she was showing off a prize.

“Surprised?” she asked softly.

“You… you’re pregnant?”

She nodded, eyes bright with something close to triumph.

“I did better than I expected,” she said lightly. “One of Chicago’s top bachelors. Billionaire. Powerful. The kind of man women would destroy each other for.”

Her smile widened.

“And he’s completely obsessed with me. Gives me everything I want.”

She kept talking, her voice smooth and pleased with itself, but it blurred into nothing.

All I could see was her stomach.

Rounded.

Full.

A memory hit me like a blow.

Hospital lights.

A small, hollow ache in my abdomen.

My baby.

My hand moved before I could stop it, drifting toward my stomach, fingers trembling.

Apple noticed immediately.

“You’re remembering, aren’t you?” she murmured.

I froze.

“I heard about that,” she continued, almost thoughtfully. “Tragic.”

A pause.

Then, softer, colder.

“But at least I didn’t have to get involved. The problem solved itself.”

My chest tightened painfully.

“And honestly,” she added, tilting her head, “maybe it was a sign.”

Her eyes locked onto mine.

“That you were never meant to be a mother.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I swallowed them back, refusing to let them fall.

I wouldn’t give her that.