Page 108 of Everything But Mine

Instead, I shrug. “What’s it to you? You can barely afford the kid you already have.”

“How expensive can babies be?” He scoffs. “They sleep all day.”

A cold wave of disgust rolls through me. I want him away from my child. “Look, Daray. Do your research, or the math. You haven’t been to a single appointment. Haven’t called. You’ve done nothing.”

“I thought it was Eric’s!”

“And it helped your white lie about the timing between Cassie and you a pretty penny, didn’t it?”

He tightens his jaw, and I force myself to exhale. Fighting isn’t the point. “This isn’t punishment, Daray. This is mercy. For all of us.”

For the first time, he actually looks at the papers instead of me.

I exhale. “I don’t want my son to be born in the middle of this mess.”

His head snaps up. “It’s a boy?”

I stand, smoothing a hand beneath the weight of my stomach. “Yeah.”

“Cassie’s having a girl.” His gaze drops to my belly, calculating now, tracking size and shape like he can solve paternity by looking hard enough. “Twenty-seven weeks?” His mouth curls. “Either my kid’s built like a tank, or you’ve really committed to the whole eating-for-two thing.”

My mouth parts, not from hurt, but from exhaustion. Of course that’s where he goes. Predictable. Small. So textbook.

“Just sign the papers,” I say, and I walk out before he can answer.

There’s nothing left in him for me except cruelty, and I’m done confusing endurance for strength. Eric is getting better for me—for us. And for the first time in years, I’m ready to put the hurt and fear aside. For a future we both choose.

We’re back at The Good Bread. The lunch rush is almost over, but plates still clatter around us while we chat at one of the outside tables. Val demolishes a Caprese sandwich, talking around mozzarella without shame, while I push arugula around my bowl, trying not to gag at the texture.

“Eric’s going to get on my case about letting you starve.”

“You’re all obsessed with what I eat.”

“No.” She points the fork at me. “Eric is obsessed with you, and we’re middle management.”

Savoring the warmth building in my chest, I poke at the salad and build the perfect bite. Chickpeas, feta, tomato. I bite it and feel a curl of arugula tingle on my tongue. Disgusting.

I stab at another chickpea. “Daray isn’t signing. Cassie won’t answer me. It’s a mess.”

“He’s stalling. Once Cassie’s baby is born, he’ll leap at the chance to offload one kid.” Val chews, then catches my expression. “What? I don’t like babies.”

I snort, but the fear creeps in anyway. “What if he doesn’t back off? And now I have to co-parent with Daray… And Cassie? There’s no way Eric wants that.”

Val doesn’t blink. “So that’s it.” She sets her sandwich down. “You’re afraid Eric’ll want someone easier.”

I glance down at my stomach. “Who signs up for this?”

“Eric does.” She waves her hand in my middle’s direction. “And he’s not delusional. He’s choosing you, intentionally. He’s not just killing time waiting for a better offer.”

“He isn’t?”

“You two are exhausting.” She taps her chin. “Reciprocal self-worth patterns. You think he deserves better. He thinks you do. You accused him of never choosing you. Let him.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You’re not supposed to know that.”

She laughs, glasses tipping forward on her nose. “We’re therapists. Basically witches.”

Then she leans in, serious. “He’s in a trauma program for himself, for you, for the baby. I get why you’re afraid, but it’s time to stop.”