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“We need to talk,” she began.
I had to make a concerted effort not to roll my eyes.  “Shoot.”
“I just want you to answer one question for me.”
I studied her, finding nothing in her face or her demeanor that I understood.  I never had.  “Just ask it.  Enough with the drama.”
“Are you in love with him?  Just tell me that.”
I shook my head.  “I’m not doing this.  Nope, not doing it.  I don’t know where on this earth you got the idea that I owe you answers about Tristan and I, but that is not the case.”
“I am.  In love with him.  No hesitation here.  Your turn.”
I wanted to slap her.  I felt my upper lip trying to shape into a snarl, and I had to take a few careful moments to smooth it out.  “There was a six year window.  I’m not sure when you came into the picture for him, but that was the window.  That’s how much time you had to make your I love you matter for him, for it to be enough.  That window is closed, and I am sorry for you, but if he didn’t love you before, I can promise you that he will never love you now.  Is that a good enough answer for you?”
There it was.  The thing I’d been looking for, and if I was honest, hoping for, since I’d first met her.
Perhaps I’d driven her to it; perhaps she’d been hiding it all along.  Needless to say, I preferred the latter.
But did it matter?  No.
The point was, the ugly from inside of her spilled out, contorting her face, her kind smile shaping into a hateful sneer, eyes gone bright with edgy fury.
She pointed a shaking finger at me.  “You think you own him?  You think you’ve had some invisible hand on him, through it all, but he was doing just fine until you came back into his life.  Just fine, until you sabotaged his life again, with that pathetic limp, and those f**king manipulative guilt trips of yours.”
“I’m going to stop you right there.  You’re going to keep going on with this rant and it is not going to matter.  Whatever you had with him, it doesn’t have the power to affect what he and I have.  So go on.  Go.  Get on with your life, because you don’t have the power to influence mine.”
She gave me the most bitter smile.  No, not bitter.
Triumphant.
That worried me, and I felt my heart rate accelerating with more than my temper.  Dread swirled deep in my belly.  I watched her mouth, fearing what she would say before she even f**king said it.
And then she proved me so very wrong, because she could affect Tristan and me.  In fact, she could destroy us with two short sentences.  Just five little words.
“I’m pregnant.  It’s his baby.”
My mind reeled.  I don’t know how long I just stood there in stunned, unadulterated horror, but she was still sitting there when I came out of it.
“So now you’ll try to trap him with a baby.”  Disgust dripped from my voice.  For her, for him, for all of us.
“Who are you to judge me?  I’m better for him.  I don’t have to wonder if I’m in love with him, I know.  I never would have left him, pining and alone, to suffer for years, to look for comfort in other women, for years.  You did all of that.  Who are you to judge me?”
“How far along are you?” I asked her.  I couldn’t believe how calm my tone sounded.
Inside, I was a mess.
A bloodbath.
“Does it matter?  I know he’s the father.  I haven’t told him yet, but you know Tristan.  He could never turn his back on something like this.”
I stood up.  I wasn’t sure how.  I made my way slowly, unsteadily, to the bar.  I didn’t look back at Mona again.  I would have done a great deal to never have to set eyes on her again for the rest of my life.
Stephan met me halfway, and just swooped in and picked me up.  I studied the chiseled line of his jaw.
“You look like a blond superman,” I told him.
He smiled.  “You don’t look well, Danika.  I’m driving you home, unless you have an objection.”
I shut my eyes.  “Will you take me to your place?  I need to keep away from my life for a bit.”
“Of course.  We have lots of room.  You can stay for as long as you need to.  I’ll take you, and Javier will bring your car, later, so you aren’t stranded.”
“Thank you.  Absolutely everyone on the planet should have their own Stephan.”
“I think you might be a little bit in shock, Danika.”
I only wished.  Shock smacked of numbness, and I wasn’t that.
To say I didn’t handle the news well was a gross understatement.
I lost it.  Just lost my mind.
The first stage was avoidance.  It was pure cowardice.
And utterly necessary.
I avoided him with skill.  With talent.  I not only anticipated where he would be, I anticipated where he’d think I would be, and steered clear of it all.
At one point, he camped out in his car on the curb in front of my house.
That night, I got a hotel room.
The next stage was worse.  It was anger.
Rage, fury, outrage, utter devastation.  I stopped avoiding him because I wanted him to feel my wrath, needed it.
I went to his house and strode up to his door.  He opened it before I could knock.  I had no clue how he’d known I was coming.  What, had he just been watching for me out the window?