“Is Cherry’s baby yours?”
No one breathes.
Shady’s eyes hold mine.
This time, he doesn’t freeze.
Too late, maybe.
But he doesn’t freeze.
“Maybe,” he says. “The baby didn’t live.”
My stomach drops. That is the cruelty of truth. Sometimes it still hurts after it stops being a surprise.
Darling moves behind me, but she doesn’t touch.
I look at Shady’s mouth. The same mouth that kissed my thighs. The same mouth that called me baby while I was tied to a chair. The same mouth that left this out.
“Say it all,” I tell him.
His eyes darken. “Lady.”
“Say. It. All.”
He swallows. “Cherry got pregnant last year.”
The room disappears around the edges.
Last year.
Before me, then. Before us, if there was ever an us. That should help.
It doesn’t.
“She didn’t tell me at first,” he says. “I found her in the bathroom at Vice Ink when she was losing it. She was scared. Bleeding. Half out of her head. I took her to a clinic. Sat with her. Paid. Brought her back.”
“Did you love her?”
“No.”
Too fast.
My eyes narrow.
He sees it and curses under his breath. “Fuck. Not like that. Not the way she wanted. Not the way I should’ve been honest about.”
“Did she love you?”
His jaw goes hard.
“That’s a yes,” I say.
“She thought she did.”
“Don’t make her stupid because it’s easier for you.”
His eyes flash.