Page 75

My stomach drops. The air sucks out of the car like someone opened a vacuum.
“I—sorry,” I stammer. “Is Carter there?”
“Oh, sweetie,” she says, her tone turning cruel. “Carter’s with our daughter. We’re just about to head out for family dinner.”
I blink, frozen. What? He said he and Laura’s mother hadn’t been in a relationship for years.
“I’m sure you received the checks,” she continues casually. “So just take it and move on, little girl.”
And then the line goes dead.
I stare at the phone, the silence so loud it rings in my ears.
For a moment, I just sit there, numb. Then the pain hits all at once, slamming into my chest and rising to my throat like I’m about to drown in it.
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
Why do I keep hoping he’s someone he’s not?
Why do I keep handing my heart to a man who clearly doesn’t want it?
Tears blur the screen. My fingers tighten around the phone before I toss it into the cupholder.
I was willing to try. Willing to believe in something broken.
But I guess I was the only one.
I rub my belly gently, and a moment later, feel a tiny kick. A sad smile tugs at my lips.
“I guess it’s just me and you, bud.”
CHAPTER 20
Carter
A boy.
She’s having our son.
I close my eyes and lean back in the chair, the words washing over me.
“I wasn’t trying to shut you out,” she says. “I was just trying to protect what little peace I had left. And maybe… protect myself from hoping for too much again.”
A lump forms in my throat. I can’t move. Can’t even fucking breathe right.
She still feels something. After everything that’s happened between us, she still feels something.
I check my call log to see if maybe I missed a call from her, but I haven’t. Instead, I see an outgoing call to Ivy yesterday, but I never called her. The call lasted two minutes.
“Savannah,” I snap, jaw tight. “We need to talk. Now.”
She looks up from the couch, unbothered, like she didn’t just shatter the only good thing I’ve been trying to rebuild.
“I’m not doing this with you right now, Carter,” she says, casually flipping through her tablet.
“You called Ivy.” I step closer. “What the hell were you thinking?”
She sets the tablet down and folds her arms. “I was thinking she doesn’t get to cry into your voicemail and pretend like she didn’t drag your name through the mud. I was doing you a favor.”