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“Yes.” I slap a hand over my mouth as the truth comes out of it, as if I could push it back in and reverse time and undo all of this so I could be the one to tell him first.

I didn’t get to tell him first.

I was too scared. It was easier living in ignorance. I didn’t know how he’d react, so I tempted fate, tempted Savannah, and that girl from the sex club, tempted all of this to come out before I did what I knew deep down was the right thing.

“See?” Savannah says snidely to Tristan. “You thought I was being a bitch, but I was always doing what was in your best interest. I was always thinking of you.”

Tristan ignores her words as his eyes stay focused on me.

“I…I wanted to tell you,” I stammer. “I tried to, but I—”

“Stop,” he hisses, his nostrils flaring in anger. His neck and face are flushed, and his forehead shines with a soft sheen of sweat. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him look so angry before. “You had every opportunity to tell me before she did.” His eyes harden as he glares at the women in front of him…none of which have done right by him.

He runs his hand through his hair as he tries to figure out his next move.

“Fuck,” he says softly, and then a little louder, he yells, “Fuck!”

He moves to stride past me, but I grab onto his arm.

“Don’t leave,” I beg, tears coursing down my cheeks as baby girl kicks into my ribs. “Ah,” I grunt. He yanks his arm out of my grasp, and I let go of him as my hand moves to my side.

“Are you okay?” my mom asks, and Tristan doesn’t stick around to find out. “Honey, sit down,” she says.

“I’m fine,” I grunt out, and I don’t sit. Instead, I rush out of the chapel as I try to catch him, but I’m over thirty weeks pregnant and he’s an NFL wide receiver who was chosen for the Pro Bowl two years running thanks to his speed and agility. Even if I wasn’t pregnant, he’d outrun me.

I don’t even see him once I’m past the threshold of the chapel.

He’s gone, and I don’t know where he went. I look around desperately as I try to find him, but he’s gone.

I suck in a deep breath as I try not to panic.

I’ll find him.

I’ll fix this.

I don’t know how…but I will.

I can’t go back in the chapel. I can’t face our few guests who are still standing in there. But I don’t have a choice.

Everyone’s quiet, unsure what to do. After a few beats, Travis rushes past me out of the chapel, and then Luke follows him. Ellie stays. Tristan’s parents stay.

And I turn around to face the people left behind.

“I have a grandchild?” Sue’s voice breaks the silence first.

“Yes, Mrs. Higgins,” Savannah says, handing her the envelope and papers that she’s already taken out. “You do. And this one kept everything from all of you.” She jerks a thumb in my direction.

Sue’s eyes move toward my mother’s. “You knew about this? You never told us?”

Savannah’s eyes light with each bomb that goes off in this tiny room that suddenly feels way too small as she surveys the destruction she’s causing. It isn’t just Tristan and me. It’s my relationship with his parents. It’s my mom’s relationship with her neighbors.

It’s our entire life as it comes crumbling down around us.

“Yes,” my mom says quietly, and I realize that my father is gone now, so even if we tell the truth, it’ll only look like we’re blaming somebody who isn’t here to defend himself. “It’s a long, complicated story, but the truth of it is that her father found the positive test and forced her to leave town.”

Sue lets out a snorting sound, and Russell is quiet beside her, and all I can think is that Savannah ruined my fucking life and I want to fucking kill her.

I stalk toward her. “Are you happy now?” I hiss.

She stands a little taller as she tips her chin up. “I wanted you two apart, but I never wanted to hurt him.”

I cackle menacingly. “Us apart will hurt him, you bitch!” I move to take a swing at her, but I’m too slow and she steps back.

“Hey, don’t hit the messenger,” she says, holding her hands up.

My eyes fall to the folder in Sue’s hands.

Savannah said she had the birth certificate, the adoption certificate…does that mean our boy’s information is in there?

His name? His parents? Where he lives?

Exactly how much did Savannah find out? What is in that envelope?

And…how? The records were sealed. If I… the birth mother …wanted that information, I wouldn’t have been allowed it.

But she has it.

I turn toward Tiffany. “What the hell are you doing here? How do you have a part in any of this?”

“I knew you’d need someone to hold your hand after Tristan broke up with you. I’m here as your friend, Tessa,” she says, and there’s something in her eyes that I can’t quite make out. Sarcasm, maybe.

“Bullshit,” I say, and I move in behind her as a sudden realization dawns on me.

Dark hair about my length.

Same size as me, too—when I’m not pregnant, anyway.

I yank her hair, and she tries to tug out of my grasp as she yelps in pain, but I just grasp her hair more tightly in my fist as I look at the tattoo on her neck.

Angel wings that look to be in the shape of a heart with a date in the center. March twenty-first.

Not May twenty-seventh, as Walt first suggested.

“So it’s you ,” I hiss.

I don’t know what March twenty-first means to her…but then it hits me.

I left about a week before that.

She tattooed the date she seduced Tristan onto her skin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, and she finally shoves her way out of my hold, smoothing down her hair.

My first thought is that I need to get in touch with Walt.

But the destruction is already done.

Whatever she’s doing and how it relates to Savannah is meaningless. JustFans is meaningless. The sex club girl and the club…all meaningless.

Because nothing in my life has meaning if Tristan isn’t in it, and he just walked out of it.

I could choose to dwell on that, to lie down without a fight, or I could do the opposite.

I’ve already been ripped away from him once. I will not allow it to happen again.