In the photo, her belly was huge and round. Kyle was kneeling on the ground, kissing it, his face glowing with the joy of becoming a father for the first time.
The pain sliced through my chest like a knife. My fingers drifted unconsciously to my own flattened abdomen.
In a daze, familiar footsteps approached from behind.
Serena.
She pulled me into her arms.
"Alex, I know I've put you through a lot. Once the baby's born, everything will go back to how it was."
"For the sake of what we've had all these years—promise me you won't make things hard for him, okay?"
I let out a bitter laugh.
So she knew. She knew exactly what she'd put me through, and she still chose this.
Without showing it, I stepped back, pulled the divorce papers from my bag, and handed them to her.
"Serena. Let's get a divorce."
Her head snapped up, disbelief flooding her face.
"What did you say? You want to divorce me?"
"Over this? I told you—I just want a child of my own. What's wrong with that!"
Those few words tore through me. I nodded. "You're right. You're not wrong."
"The one who's wrong is me. If I hadn't saved you back then—if my dad hadn't thrown himself in front of that car for you—then it wouldn't… wouldn't…"