Chapter 4: The Contract

I waited until we got home before I allowed myself to fall apart.

The entire drive back, Kilan kept his eyes on the road while I stared out the passenger window, pretending to watch the city lights blur past.

Neither of us spoke.

The silence between us wasn't peaceful.

It was crowded with everything I wanted to say and everything he never thought to ask.

When the car rolled into the driveway, Kilan turned off the engine.

"You barely ate."

"I wasn't hungry."

"You were sick twice."

"I'm fine."

He looked at me then, his gray eyes narrowing slightly.

"You're a terrible liar."

For one reckless second, hope fluttered inside my chest.

Maybe he noticed.

Maybe he cared.

Maybe—

"I'm calling Dr. Mason tomorrow."

The hope disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"I don't need another doctor."

"You need to find out what's wrong."

"I already know."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His brows drew together.

"What do you mean?"

"I..." I looked away. "I mean it's probably just stress."

He studied me for another moment but didn't press.

"Get some rest."

He walked toward the stairs.

I watched his back disappear before whispering to the empty hallway,

"I'm pregnant."

The confession echoed through the house.

Too late.

Too quiet.

Too meaningless.

Sleep refused to come.

Near midnight, I slipped out of bed and unlocked the bottom drawer of my nightstand.

The contract lay exactly where I'd hidden it three years ago.

The paper had softened with age.

The pain hadn't.

I unfolded it carefully.

Every line was painfully familiar.

ARTICLE ONE

The marriage shall remain confidential regarding its contractual nature.

ARTICLE TWO

Both parties shall publicly present themselves as husband and wife.

ARTICLE THREE

Neither party shall interfere in the other's private emotional life.

My fingers trembled.

Private emotional life.

What a polite way of saying...

Don't fall in love.

I had failed before the contract was ever signed.

I kept reading.

ARTICLE SIX

The marriage shall terminate automatically after three years unless otherwise agreed.

Then I reached the sentence that had haunted me from the beginning.

ARTICLE SEVEN

No pregnancy shall occur during the contractual marriage.

Any pregnancy shall constitute a material breach of this agreement.

I closed my eyes.

A material breach.

That was how my babies were described.

Not children.

Not family.

A breach.

A violation.

A mistake.

Tears blurred the words until the ink became unreadable.

A knock sounded on the bedroom door.

I hurriedly folded the contract.

"Come in."

The door opened.

Kilan stepped inside, still dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.

"I saw the light."

"I couldn't sleep."

His gaze drifted toward the papers in my hands.

"What are you reading?"

I hesitated.

"The contract."

His expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

"You still keep it?"

"I thought I should."

Silence stretched between us.

Finally, he walked farther into the room.

"The contract ends in four months."

"I know."

"If you want anything after the divorce..."

He paused.

"I'll make sure you're taken care of."

I stared at him.

Taken care of.

As though I were an employee finishing a job.

"As generous as always."

He frowned slightly.

"Lisa—"

"Do you ever regret it?"

He looked confused.

"What?"

"Marrying me."

The question escaped before I could stop it.

His jaw tightened.

"It was necessary."

Necessary.

Not wanted.

Not cherished.

Necessary.

I smiled despite the ache spreading through my chest.

"That's not what I asked."

His eyes held mine.

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

"I don't regret marrying you."

My heart skipped.

Then he quietly added,

"But I always knew it wouldn't last."

Whatever hope had sparked inside me died instantly.

He left the room a few minutes later.

The soft click of the closing door sounded strangely final.

Morning arrived after what felt like only minutes.

The smell of coffee usually comforted me.

Today it turned my stomach.

I barely reached the kitchen sink before nausea overwhelmed me.

I gripped the counter, breathing through it.

"Lisa."

Kilan's voice came from behind me.

I straightened too quickly.

"I'm okay."

He crossed the kitchen in three long strides.

"That's the third time."

"It'll pass."

"It isn't passing."

He picked up his phone.

"I'm calling the doctor."

"No!"

The word came out far louder than I intended.

He froze.

"So there is something you're hiding."

My pulse raced.

"I just don't want to go."

"Why?"

Because they'll tell you.

Because everything will change.

Because you'll look at our babies like they're a broken clause in a contract.

"I don't like hospitals."

"You've never had a problem with hospitals before."

He was right.

I searched desperately for another excuse.

"There are germs."

One corner of his mouth almost lifted.

"That was your best lie?"

Despite everything, I almost smiled.

Almost.

"I'll see someone later."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

He held my gaze for a long moment before nodding.

"I'll hold you to it."

After he left for work, I released the breath I'd been holding.

Instead of calling the family physician...

I dialed Dr. Grey.

"Lisa?" she answered.

"I need another appointment."

"Is everything alright?"

"I don't know."

I looked toward the cabinet where I'd kept my birth control.

"I need to understand how this happened."

"Come in this afternoon."

"I will."

After ending the call, I walked to the kitchen drawer and picked up the nearly empty blister pack.

Something caught my attention.

I frowned.

One tablet looked slightly different from the others.

A different shade.

A different shape.

I turned the packet over in my hands.

Had it always looked like that?

Or...

Had someone changed it?

A chill ran down my spine as I stared at the pills.

For the first time since learning I was pregnant, one terrifying thought took shape.

What if this...

wasn't an accident?