His jaw tightened.
“There’s something else.”
I saw hesitation in him, and somehow that frightened me more.
“When we separated five years ago…” Ethan whispered, “were you pregnant?”
The monitor beside me quickened.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
My entire body went rigid.
Ethan saw it.
And the color drained from his face.
“Hannah.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t get to ask me that.”
His voice cracked.
“Were you?”
For five years, I had imagined this moment.
In some versions, I screamed.
In others, I slapped him.
Sometimes I told him everything and watched him collapse under the weight of what his family had done.
But now I was too tired even to hate him properly.
So I whispered the truth.
“Yes.”
Ethan stopped breathing.
I continued before he could speak.
“I found out three days after you left me.”
His eyes filled with something I had never seen in them before.
