Page 123 of Forking the Billionaire

And then there was the fact that he wasn’t talking, which meant I was compelled to talk more. “The wedding was beautiful. The bonfire was great, too. I didn’t want to leave. I was just….”

I hated to lie to him. But there was absolutely no way I could tell him what was actually going on. And he wasstillnot talking to me.

“My stomach’s acting up again,” I lied. “I thought I was watching what I ate well enough, but turns out I missed something. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll be totally fine by tomorrow for the farewell breakfast.”

He snapped his gaze to me then. Finally, I recognized the look in his eyes, or at least part of it—disappointment.

“If there’s an ounce of truth in that, you should return to the doctor,” he said. “Are you really allergic to Polynesian jerk BBQ sauce, Esme?”

Oh no.

“Of course I am?” Why did that come out sounding like a question. “This is weird. We should be talking about your amazing new life. Better yet, you should be celebrating thatbright future with your brand spanking new wife, not wasting your time here with your boring old sister.”

He clenched his jaw.

I internally flinched, but kept my outward appearance cool, or at least I tried.

He said, “You’re pregnant.”

No, no,no.

“How did you…who told you that?” I laughed nervously. “Of course I’m not…how would I even? No way. Not me. Someone gave you bad intel.”

“Jasper is the father.”

My excuses turned to blubbering and then finally into a pathetic whimper.

“It’s true then.” His words were all cold accusation, not a question.

I felt myself shrinking, my faux-calm curling inward like a withered leaf. The air around me thickened, charged with unspoken excuses.

I couldn’t let myself do that, not anymore. I couldn’t hide my true feelings and run away from my problems.

“You’ve been lying to me.” The harsh edge of his tone softened.

He crossed his arms, but not in a way that almost felt like he was hugging himself. Like I’d hurt his feelings.

And that spotlight of hurt cast a long shadow of shame.

Softer still, he said, “Why?”

“I didn’t know,” I said, knowing it sounded like another pathetic lie. “It’s the truth. I found out I was pregnant Friday. I’m trying to process. And I didn’t want to ruin your special day.”

He just stared at me. I stared right back.

“We’ll work out the details of your return to Epiphany.” He let his arms drop. He looked suddenly tired. “I’m staying here tonight and?—”

“No.” No way was I having that.

“No?”

I didn’t need his help, certainly not tonight. I was going to figure this all out. But I was doing it on my terms.

“You’re going on your honeymoon in the morning,” I told him. “And you’re spending your wedding night with your bride.”

He still just stared at me.

He didn’t know what to do with himself if I didn’t let him go all dad-zone. Maybe our dynamic, the one that I’d spent so much time lamenting, was as much my own fault as it was his.

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