Chapter 1

Lacey Malone came over with a pregnancy test and a medical report.

She set them on the coffee table and watched my face.

“I’m twelve weeks along,” she said.

I picked up the report. The date made me pause.

Robby Davidson had come home for two weeks in June.

She had gone out to dinner with him, then to a bar. When I had called that night, she accused me of checking up on her just for seeing an old friend.

I put the report down. “Is it Robby’s?”

Lacey lowered her head. “We were drinking that night. We used to be together, after all, and we simply got caught up in the moment.”

She said slowly, as if she wanted to make sure I understood how difficult it had been for her.

“Does he know?” I asked.

Lacey nodded. “He does. But he can’t come back. You know how busy he is. His projects are worth millions. He can’t just take time off whenever he wants.”

I did not ask about the project.

Whenever she made excuses for Robby, she always had plenty of details.

All I ever got was, “You’re overthinking it.”

Robby had been my college roommate.

He and Lacey had dated for four years. She got together with me after they broke up.

I knew she had loved him before me, but I had never held that against her.

When she told me she had moved on, I believed her.

We had gotten engaged in May.

She had picked out the ring, the hotel for the wedding, even the flowers she wanted to grow on my balcony.

My parents were so excited that they had already set aside money for their future grandchildren.

She rested a hand on her stomach and said softly, “I want to keep the baby.”

“What’s Robby going to do about it?” I asked.

Lacey handed me her phone. “He respects my decision. He hasn’t pressured me into anything, so don’t start blaming him.”

Robby’s last message had been, [It’s your decision. I really can’t get away.]

She had sent several messages in a row after that.

She had asked if he would want the baby if it was a boy. Then, she had promised to take good care of herself and the baby so he would not have to worry.

I handed her phone back.

“I resigned,” Lacey added. “I’m giving up my apartment too. Living alone while pregnant would be too much to handle.”

“You’ve already done all that?” I asked.

She looked at me. “It’s not like we’ve just met. Do I have to end up sleeping on the street before you’ll help me?”

I just stared at her in silence.

Her tone softened. “Brooke, I told you the truth because I thought I could be honest with you. Another woman might’ve kept quiet and gone through with the wedding. You’d still have ended up raising the baby, wouldn’t you?”

The clock in the living room ticked twice.

“I told you because I trust you,” Lacey continued. “Don’t make me regret being honest.”

I took the wedding menu off the coffee table and buried it at the bottom of a drawer.

“The wedding will have to wait,” I said.

Lacey’s expression hardened. “Do you have to be so mean? Do you think I’d be here if I could manage on my own?”

She sat back down on the sofa. The tears came right on cue.

Lacey said, “My parents don’t know. What am I supposed to tell them when they ask about the wedding? What are you going to tell yours? You’re going to let me be the only one who looks bad?”

I went into the spare bedroom and pulled the dust sheet off the bed.

“You can stay here,” I said. “I’ll cover your food and a place to live. You and Robby can work out what to do about the baby.”

She followed me in. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, but she was already sizing up the room.

“Isn’t the master bedroom bigger?” she asked.

“The spare room’s available.”

She looked at me and let it drop.

A little later, Lacey took hold of my wrist. “You don’t mean that. I know you. You’ve always done whatever I asked when I was upset. Once we get past this, we’ll be fine.”

I pulled my hand free and unwrapped a new set of sheets.

She still wanted reassurance. “So, you’re okay with me keeping the baby too?”

“Have you already made up your mind?” I asked.

Lacey nodded at once. “I have. I can’t give up this baby.”

“In that case, have it.”

She let out a sigh of relief, as if the hardest part was over and whether Robby would come back could wait.

She asked if I could make something light for dinner. The smell of anything frying had been making her feel sick.

I opened the kitchen window and cooked her some plain pasta.

Halfway through the meal, she took a photo and sent it to Robby.

She told him, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of the baby.”

I was not in the photo.

I sat across the table and opened the company intranet.

Applications for the temporary assignment in Amabel closed in six days.

“When’s your due date?” I asked.

“Around March fifteenth,” Lacey replied absently, her eyes on her phone.

I opened the application form.

The assignment was to start in early March.

She was waiting for Robby to reply.

I finished entering my name.

That evening, she went back to her apartment to pick up some clothes. She texted me.

[I’ve decided to keep the baby. Robby can’t come back, so I’ll need you to come to my prenatal appointments with me from here on.]

I put her appointments in my calendar and clicked Submit.