Page 8 of Vegas Baby!

“Micah, dinner’s here. And we have guests.”

Micah popped out of his room with a bright smile, wearing a white tank top and black shorts, his bleached blond curls contrasting his smooth brown skin. He beamed at Ava. “Could’ve mentioned our guest was a beautiful lady.”

Ava’s cheeks turned pink and when she stepped out from behind me, Micah noticed her belly, his eyes going wide for a half second before he collected himself.

“Micah, this is Ava, and the guy with her is Bryce.”

“Oh,theAva?”

I nodded, embarrassment warming my cheeks.

Ava stared up at me, questions in her eyes.

“You never told me what a cutie she was,” Micah chided. He scooped up her hand to kiss the back, and I caught the hot second he realized who and what she was to us. And then Ava realized too, her confused gaze turning to me again.

I could only shrug as relief pounded through me. Two out of three so far. If I was right about Micah, I was probably right about Jesse too, and then we could work together to figure out what the fuck to do.

Ava looked pale, swaying on her feet. “I think I need to sit down.”

What the hell was going on? The universe seriously needed to lay off today. Wasn’t it enough that my entire life had exploded? How was finding out I had not one, buttwoscent matches, neither of which lived anywhere near me, supposed to help my situation?

My stupid little inner teen self had kindled a ridiculous hope that Luke might be my scent match after Bryce’s reveal. Thatcertainly would have fulfilled a lot of years of childish longing. Instead, it was two strangers.

I stared at the collection of men hovering around me while I tried not to let the clawing panic take over. This was way too much to cope with. Maybe it was all one giant nightmare and when I woke up in the morning, I’d be back home in bed.

Only a couple of hours ago I had been desperately hoping I would end the night engaged, and now that was all shattered.

Andrew was married. And he already had kids. The red flags were like neon signs now that I looked back.

I had only ever seen him when he traveled for work. Every time I had asked to go to New York to stay with him for a while, he had shot it down. Even when I did see him, he kept me in the hotel as much as possible, presumably worried about exactly what had happened tonight. Other people he worked with probably knew his wife personally. Would any of them have said anything or was this something they were also doing? Would Bryce have told me if he had actually known what Charlotte looked like?

Me finding out had been a complete accident, and while I was grateful I knew now, I was also really fucking miserable.

How far would Andrew have let things get? He had been resistant from the start to have me move to New York and I hadn’t understood it before. Now I did.

Four and a half years. That was how long I had wasted on him, how long I had believed that he loved me. Ever since I had gotten pregnant, he’d been pulling away and I hadn’t understood why. I supposed from his perspective a long-distance girlfriend was a lot easier to maintain than an expectant fiancée in the same city. Would I have even seen him any more than I did now if this hadn’t come out?

I had too many questions, and every single one of them made me hate myself for not seeing the signs sooner.

I didn’t keep all my anger for myself though. I reserved the lion’s share for Andrew. What sort of monster did this? Did his wife have any idea? I was morbidly curious about her and his children. I knew anecdotally that a lot of men who did stuff like this said they were miserable with their wives and going to get divorced at the earliest opportunity, and never did. I swore in the majority of stories I saw online the “misery” their wives put them through was asking them to do a chore once in a while.

I wasn’t sure which lie was worse. I certainly never would have agreed to dance with Andrew when we met, or pursued a relationship with him if I had known Charlotte was in the picture.

I looked over at Bryce, who was quietly watching me. “Do you know when he and Charlotte got married?”

Micah looked completely confused and Luke whispered in his ear, presumably explaining my whole ridiculous situation.

“I’m not sure,” replied Bryce. “I’m pretty sure he was already married when I started there about a decade ago.”

“And his kids?”

“I think they’re about five and seven. I’ve seen pictures of them on his desk at work, but I’ve never asked about them.”

I wanted to throw up.

Andrew had sought me out when he’d had a newborn at home. Maybe Charlotte had even been recovering from the birth the first time he had taken me to bed.

Selfish as it was, I couldn’t help but wonder if he might have done the same to me in a few months’ time. Beneath all that anger was a soul-crippling sadness, for Charlotte and her children, for me and the baby I carried. We all had a connection that could never be undone to someone who apparently didn’t give a shit about any of us.

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