Chapter 4-Not my baby

## Chapter 4: Not My Baby

The rain drummed against the car roof like a war chant. Cassie gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as lightning split the sky. She hated driving in storms—hated the way the world blurred into a watery haze, hated how it reminded her of the night her mother's car hydroplaned into a guardrail. But tonight, she had no choice.

Greyson sat beside her, rainwater dripping from his hair onto Jake's borrowed hoodie. The scent of his cologne—something earthy and sharp—mixed with the petrichor seeping through the window.

"You didn't have to play the hero," Cassie muttered, squinting through the windshield. The wipers fought a losing battle against the deluge. "I could've tossed your phone out the window."

"And miss this?" Greyson smirked, gesturing to the gridlocked traffic ahead. "Best first date ever."

"This isn't a date." The words came out sharper than she intended. Her nerves were frayed, her thoughts a tangled mess. The memorial service had been uncomfortable enough before Greyson's unexpected appearance sent Jake into a tailspin.

"Could've fooled me." He leaned closer, voice dropping. "You're blushing, Hunter."

She jerked the wheel to avoid a pothole. "Shut up."

A car cut her off, brake lights flaring red in the rain. Cassie slammed on her brakes, the car fishtailing slightly before straightening out. Her heart hammered in her chest.

"Jesus," she breathed. "I can't see anything in this."

Greyson shifted in his seat. "Maybe we should pull over, wait it out."

"Not here." She nodded toward the line of cars inching forward. "We're on the bridge. Nowhere to stop."

Silence settled, thick and charged. Cassie's phone buzzed incessantly in the cup holder—Jake's name flashing like a warning beacon. She ignored it. This was the third call in ten minutes. Each one made her stomach twist a little tighter.

Greyson noticed. "He's persistent."

"He's worried." She kept her eyes on the road, refusing to glance at either the phone or the man beside her.

"Or controlling."

Cassie's jaw tightened. "You don't know him."

"I know him better than you think." There was something in his tone—a heaviness, an edge—that made her grip the wheel harder.

"You've met him once."

"Once was enough." Greyson's fingers drummed against his thigh, a nervous rhythm that mirrored the rain. "That man at the service today? The one who couldn't look me in the eye? That wasn't grief. That was guilt."

"What are you talking about?" The car inched forward as traffic moved sluggishly.

Greyson stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought. The storm cast shadows across his face, hiding his expression. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible over the rain.

"I know he paid me $50,000 to keep quiet about Viv."

The car swerved. Cassie slammed the brakes, tires screeching. Horns blared behind them.

"What did you just say?" Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, thin and strained.

Greyson stared straight ahead, rain painting trails down the glass. "Three years ago, Jake showed up at my doorstep. Said he'd make the scandal disappear—Viv's affair, the accident, everything—if I signed his NDA. I was drowning in hospital bills, lawsuits... I took the money."

Cassie's throat closed. *Jake never mentioned this. Never.* Her mind raced, trying to reconcile the man she thought she knew—the man she'd agreed to marry—with this new information.

"You're lying." The accusation fell flat, unconvincing even to her own ears.

"Why would I?" Greyson finally turned to face her, his eyes reflecting the passing streetlights. "What do I have to gain?"

"I don't know. Revenge? You clearly have some grudge against him."

"My grudge isn't with Jake. It's with the truth." He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. A scar she hadn't noticed before peeked out from his hairline—thin and white against his tanned skin. "Do you know how hard it is to keep secrets that aren't even yours?"

Cassie's phone rang again. Jake's smiling face lit up the screen—a photo taken on their anniversary trip to Maui, his arms wrapped around her waist as they watched the sunset. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Why tell me now?" she asked, ignoring the call again.

"Because you're marrying a ghost." His hand brushed hers, warm against her cold skin. "And I'm tired of lying."

The traffic lurched forward. Cassie accelerated, her mind racing faster than the wipers. She thought of Jake's face at the memorial—the way he'd paled when he saw Greyson, how he'd rushed them out before the service ended. The way he'd been distant these past weeks, disappearing into his study for hours with the door locked.

"What was in the NDA?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

"The usual legal jargon. I couldn't talk about Viv, the accident, or any relationship between them." Greyson's voice hardened. "Basically, I had to pretend she was just my wife, not his mistress."

The word hit Cassie like a physical blow. *Mistress*. She'd known Viv only through Jake's stories—his brilliant colleague, his closest friend, the woman who'd died too young in a tragic accident. Never once had he hinted at anything more.

"That can't be right." She shook her head, as if the motion could dislodge Greyson's words. "Jake would have told me."

"Would he?" Greyson's question hung in the air. "Men like Jake protect their reputations above all else. The golden boy prosecutor, next in line for district attorney... you think he'd risk that?"

Lightning flashed, illuminating the road ahead. For a split second, Cassie thought she saw something—a deer, maybe—but when she blinked, there was nothing but rain.

"Pull over," Greyson said suddenly.

"What?"

"You're shaking. Let me drive."

She glanced down at her hands. He was right; they trembled against the steering wheel.

"Not my baby." She clung to the wheel. "This car's the only thing my mom left me. I don't let anyone—"

"Cassie." His voice softened. "I won't wreck it. Promise."

Another bolt of lightning, another crash of thunder—closer this time. The storm was intensifying. Reluctantly, she veered onto the shoulder, hazard lights blinking in the gloom. They switched seats, Greyson's fingers lingering on the gearshift as their hands grazed.

The contact sent an electric current through her, unwelcome but impossible to ignore. She pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself as she settled into the passenger seat. From this angle, the storm seemed even more menacing.

"Where'd you learn to drive?" she asked, if only to fill the silence.

"Farm trucks. Dirt roads." He grinned, boyish and disarming. "My dad said if I could dodge coyotes, I could handle anything. I am not perfect and I know that you saw my scars and you were totally eye fucking me too."

Against her will, Cassie laughed. It startled her—the sound light, almost free. Then she caught herself, remembering where they were, who they were. "I wasn't... eye anything."

"Sure you weren't." His smile softened to something more genuine. "It's okay. I was looking too."

Heat crept up her neck. She turned away, focusing on the rain-slicked window. Through the glass, the world was distorted, fractured into a thousand droplets of light. Just like her perception of Jake, she realized with a pang.

Greyson's smile faded as they merged back into traffic. His hands were steady on the wheel, navigating the storm with a confidence she envied. "Jake's not who you think he is. The memorial today? It wasn't for his 'best friend.' It was for Viv. He was sleeping with her."

Cassie's phone rang again. This time, she answered.

"Where are you?" Jake's voice was tight with tension. "I've been calling for hours."

"It's been twenty minutes," she corrected, her tone cooler than usual. "And I'm in traffic. The storm's bad."

"You left with *him*." The accusation was clear. "What were you thinking?"

Greyson's eyes remained fixed on the road, but she could tell he was listening to every word.

"His car wouldn't start. I offered a ride." The half-truth felt bitter on her tongue. She hadn't planned to leave with Greyson, but when he'd followed her to the parking lot, rain-soaked and asking for help, she hadn't been able to say no. Something about his eyes—wounded, haunted—had resonated with the emptiness she'd been feeling lately.

"Come home," Jake said, his voice softening into the tone he used when he wanted to win an argument without seeming like he was arguing. "Please. I need you here."

Cassie watched raindrops race down the window, merging and splitting in unpredictable patterns. "We need to talk, Jake."

A pause. "About what?"

"About Viv."

The silence that followed was deafening. Cassie could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, a panicked rhythm.

"What about her?" Jake's voice had changed—careful, measured.

"You tell me."

Another pause. "Cass, whatever he's been saying—"

"Is it true?" She cut him off, unable to bear the circumvention. "Were you having an affair with her?"

Greyson's hands tightened on the wheel. The car slowed as they approached an exit ramp.

"This isn't a conversation for the phone." Jake's voice had hardened. "Where are you? I'll come get you."

"Answer the question."

"Cassie, please—"

"It's a yes or no, Jake." Her voice cracked. "Did you sleep with her?"

The line went quiet for so long that Cassie thought he might have hung up. Then, barely audible:

"Yes."

The single syllable shattered everything. Cassie ended the call without another word, letting the phone drop into her lap. She stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.

Greyson pulled off the highway onto a deserted service road. He killed the engine but left the headlights on, illuminating sheets of rain.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Did you know?" Cassie asked, her voice hollow. "When you married her, did you know about them?"

He shook his head. "Not until after the accident. She was in a coma. I found texts on her phone while I was looking for family contacts." His jaw tightened. "Three years' worth of messages. Meeting times. Hotel rooms. I love yous."

Cassie closed her eyes, trying to block out the mental image of Jake with another woman. "Why didn't you expose him? Go to the media?"

"What would that have accomplished? Viv was dying. I was broken. And Jake..." Greyson sighed heavily. "Jake came to the hospital with his offer before I could even process what I'd found. Said it would help with the medical bills. Said Viv wouldn't want a scandal."

"And you believed him?"

"I believed the money." Rain drummed on the roof, a steady rhythm like marching feet. "Fifty thousand dollars buys a lot of silence."

Cassie's phone buzzed with a text. Jake: *Please come home. Let me explain.*

She turned the phone face-down. "I can't go back there tonight."

"You can stay at my place," Greyson offered, then quickly added, "On the couch. I'm not... I'm not trying anything."

"I know." And strangely, she did know. Despite everything—the revelations, the storm, the intensity between them—she trusted him. Perhaps because he had nothing left to hide.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Greyson nodded, restarting the engine. The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the road ahead—unfamiliar, uncertain, but somehow less frightening than the prospect of returning to the life she'd thought was real.

As they pulled back onto the road, Cassie's phone buzzed one final time. A text from Jake: *Whatever he's told you, there's more to the story. Viv was pregnant when she died. The baby wasn't mine.*

Cassie stared at the message, her blood turning to ice. Slowly, she turned to Greyson, studying his profile in the dim light.

"There's something you're not telling me," she said quietly.

His expression didn't change, but his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

"Not my baby," he whispered, echoing her earlier words about the car. "Not my baby."