Page 78 of The Thinnest Air

Or maybe I just don’t want to.

Either way, I know one thing’s for sure: I don’t want Ronan involving himself in any of this.

Andrew’s been a dream lately. I think he’d say the same for me.

We’ve come too far, worked way too hard.

And now we’re trying to start a family. Officially. Both of us on the same page, both of us equally excited about this next chapter.

“So that’s it?” he asks.

My grip pauses on the door handle. “What do you mean?”

“I tell you your husband’s cheating, and you walk off likeI’mthe asshole in this situation?” Ronan scoffs, his finger digging into his chest, trembling almost.

My gaze flicks into his, and I gather that this was never really over ... not for him. How long has he been pining for me? Silently waiting in the wings? Wishing for another opportunity?

“You picked the wrong guy,” he says, voice cracking.

“It was never you against him,” I say, keeping my voice low and moving closer. “I married him. My choice was always going to be him.”

Ronan’s expression darkens, jaw flexing and stare hardening.

“IloveAndrew,” I say. “You were my escape. My little cheap thrill. But he’s myhusband.”

“Convenient how little that mattered when you were fucking me.” He spits his words at me, lingers for a moment, towering over me.

“I’m pregnant.” I hate to lie to him, but clearly, he’s hurting for closure. And I might as well be expecting. We’ve been trying like crazy. It’s bound to happen sooner or later.

Ronan’s eyes water, and his hands lift to the back of his head. He steps backward, away. And then he’s gone. Climbing into his truck, he peels away, and I exhale, watching his taillights grow dim in the distance.

I didn’t mean to hurt him. That was never my intention. But he needs to move on.

We all need to move on.

CHAPTER 34

GREER

Day Ten

The Burlington airport is quaint and easy to navigate, which is much appreciated given my current condition.

I find Ronan by the baggage claim, thumbing through his phone and periodically glancing up to check the crowd for my face. His flight landed an hour before mine. I’m sure the wait was hell.

“Hey,” I say.

He dangles a set of keys, peering around again, not meeting my gaze. “I’ve got the car.”

Within minutes we’re loading our carry-on bags in the trunk of a rented Dodge, barreling down the highway toward Harris’s cabin, which is a good three hours from here according to the GPS on my phone.

Road noise layered over silence does nothing to quell the anxious twist in my middle. Legs crossed, my ankle bounces, and I nip at my nails, biting them to the quick one by one.

“So tell me about the dynamic between Meredith and Harris,” Ronan says, his fists gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles whiten. “Help me understand how this possibly could’ve evolved.”

I shake my head, my eyes unfocused on the road before us. “They couldn’t stand each other. From the moment they met, they butted heads. She thought he was an opinionated jerk. He thought she was everything that was wrong with her generation. They were constantly giving each other shit, sometimes joking, sometimes not.”

“Is it possible it was all a ploy?” he asks, checking his rearview mirror. “Maybe something was going on between them, and this was their way of covering it up?”