03

Sophia.

I jerked my hand away from him like his touch burned. "Don't," I said, and my voice came out smaller than I wanted it to. But, at least I said something, and I was still standing.

Ethan looked at me like I had slapped him. His jaw tightened, but he didn't move closer. He just stood there, waiting. Always waiting for me to be the reasonable one.

"Sophia, please," he said. "Just hear me out." He pleaded.

"I don't want to hear anything from you right now." I pushed past him toward the door, but his hand caught my wrist. His grip wasn't rough. He wasn't capable of being rough with me, but it was firm enough to stop me. Firm enough to remind me that he was still the strongest person in the room. That used to make me feel safe.

"Let go," I said, trying to pull away.

"Not until you listen to me." His voice had that alpha command in it, the one that made pack members obey without question. But I wasn't a pack member. I was his wife, or at least, I used to be.

"Fine, talk." I yanked my wrist free and wrapped my arms around myself. "But make it quick."

He looked at me like I was a stranger. Maybe I was. Maybe we both were. "At the welcome ceremony," he started, "there was a lot of drinking. I drank more than I should have." He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed how thin his face had gotten. 

When was the last time he had actually slept? "Victoria was in heat. I didn't, I couldn't control myself."

I felt something twist inside my chest. A metallic taste flooded my mouth. "And?" I pushed because he clearly wasn't saying what actually mattered.

"And I didn't even remember it the next morning. It wasn't until she told me she was pregnant that I even knew what had happened."

He looked at me like this was supposed to mean something. Like being drunk, he excused the fact that he had been inside another woman, like not remembering made it better somehow.

"So what you are telling me is that you don't even have the decency to remember cheating on me?" My voice was sharp now, cutting. "You were so drunk that you couldn't even recall putting your hands on her?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like, Ethan? Paint me a picture."

He flinched, good. "I never intended for this to happen," he continued quietly. 

"I swear to you, Sophia." He caught himself. "Sophia. I would never intentionally hurt you."

"And yet here we are."

He stepped closer again, and I let him this time, partly because I was tired of fighting, partly because I needed to see his face when he answered my next question.

"Did you mark her?" I asked.

He shook his head so hard I thought it might snap off. "No. God, no. I would never,"

"You were inside her, and you didn't mark her? So what, Ethan? You have some line you won't cross? You will impregnate her, but you won't make it official?" I laughed, and it sounded so bitter. "That is supposed to make me feel better?"

"She doesn't mean anything to me," he said, desperation creeping into his voice. "It was a mistake. It was a horrible, drunken mistake, and I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but"

"Sophia?"

I froze, that voice, that perfect, innocent voice that had no business being anywhere near my bedroom.

Victoria stood in the doorway, her hand on her pregnant belly, looking like she had just stumbled upon us having a casual conversation instead of tearing apart the remains of my marriage, my hands clenched into fists.

"I am sorry," she said, her blue eyes wide with what looked like genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I overheard voices, and I was worried about Ethan." Worried about Ethan, as if she had any right to be.

"Get out," I said quietly.

"Wait, let me explain."

"No." My voice was louder now. "You don't get to explain. You don't get to be in my bedroom, looking at my husband, acting like you are concerned about his wellbeing. Get out, now."

She didn't move. Instead, she stepped further inside, her hands still cradling her belly. She looked vulnerable, soft, and everything I wasn't.

"I wanted to apologize," she continued, ignoring my demand. "I know I have ruined things between you, and I feel terrible about that. But Ethan says you two love each other, and I just, I wanted you to know that this was my fault, not his."

I stared at her. Was she actually trying to take the blame? Was she actually standing in my bedroom, playing the guilty party while carrying my husband's child?

"How generous," I said flatly. "Anything else you would like to confess? Are there any other bombs you want to drop?"

She took a breath, like she was preparing herself. "Actually, yes. I don't want to be here." Both Ethan and I looked at her.

"What?" I asked, not sure I had heard correctly.

"I don't want to be here," she repeated. "I don't want to raise this baby. I made a mistake, and I am not equipped to be a mother. I was thinking." She paused, and for the first time, something real flickered across her face.

Resignation, maybe, acceptance of how badly she had fucked things up. "I was thinking that after I give birth, you could take the baby. Raise it as your own and I could leave."

The room went silent, even Ethan seemed to stop breathing. "You are joking," I said finally.

"I am not."

I looked at her standing there, this woman who had slept with my husband, who was carrying his child, who was now offering me the one thing I had wanted my entire adult life. 

It felt like some kind of twisted fairytale, the kind where the villain accidentally gave you everything you ever wanted.

It was too easy, too perfect, which meant there had to be a catch. "Why should I believe you?" I asked.

"Because I am telling you the truth," Victoria said simply. "I never wanted any of this. I was in heat, he was convenient, and now I am pregnant. But I don't look like the type that will nurse a baby, and I am certainly not going to ruin my life trying to be good. So take the baby. Let him be your son, and I will disappear."

She made it sound so simple, so reasonable, but at the same time, nothing about this was reasonable. Nothing about any of it made sense, and yet a small, desperate part of me wanted to believe her.