Page 41 of Broken Vows

“Don't.” I hold up my hand, stopping him. “Don't you dare try to explain how you were going to tell me that my husband and my best friend—” My voice breaks. “That you were going to have a baby with her while I'm carrying your child too.”

“I never meant?—”

“To what? To destroy everything? To make me question every memory, every moment?” The tears come hot and unstoppable. “Was anything real? Or were you thinking of her every time you held me, every time you kissed me, every time you talked about our future?”

He moves toward me again, but I back away. “Please, Lex, let me?—”

“Don't call me that.” My nickname feels poisoned now. “Don't you ever call me that again.”

I grab my keys from the hook by the door, my purse from the chair.

“Where are you going?” Panic edges into his voice. “You shouldn't drive like this?—”

“Like what, Jeremy? Pregnant? Betrayed?” A bitter laugh escapes me. “Don't worry. I won't do anything to hurt your child. Either of them.”

The door slams behind me with a finality that echoes through my bones. In my car, I sit with my hands gripping the steering wheel, watching the front door through tears. He doesn't follow me out.

Of course he doesn't.

My phone buzzes in my purse - Lilly's name lighting up the screen. The sight of it makes me want to drive into her house. I start the car, put it in drive, and leave behind the ruins of everything I thought I knew about love and friendship and forever.

My hands shake on the steering wheel as I drive, muscle memory guiding me through familiar streets. I don't realize where I'm heading until I see the cemetery gates rising before me. Usually, I visit in the early morning or at dusk, when the shadows are softer, when it's easier to pretend I'm just having a conversation with her.

I park, turning the car off and walking to her headstone.

“Hi, Mom,” I whisper, lowering myself carefully onto the sun-warmed grass. My hand instinctively goes to my belly.

“Jeremy and Lilly... they're having a baby. Just like us.” My voice cracks. “A whole year, Mom. They've been sneaking around for a whole year, and I never saw it. How can I be so blind? I can't even see what's right in front of me.”

My phone buzzes again in my purse. I've been ignoring the constant notifications - texts from Jeremy, calls from Lilly. Each one feels like another knife in my back.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I trace the dates on her headstone. “Our babies will be siblings. How am I supposed to handle that? How do I look at my child every day and not think about...” I can't finish the thought.

“I wish you were here,” I whisper. “I wish you could tell me what to do. Tell me how to be strong enough for this baby when I feel like I'm falling apart.”

I press my hand harder against my stomach, feeling the slight swell that's become more noticeable lately. “It's just you and me now, little one.” My voice steadies as I say it. “Well, you and me and Grandma watching over us.”

Mom always said changes come in seasons - that sometimes you have to let things die for new growth to take root. I never really understood what she meant until now.

My phone buzzes one more time.

Jeremy

Please come home. We need to talk. Think about the baby.

Me

Which one? Yours with me, or yours with my best friend?

The drive home feels both too long and too short. Every stoplight gives me time to second-guess myself, to wonder if I should just keep driving until I hit the coast, find some small beach town where nobody knows me or my story.

Jeremy's truck is still in the driveway when I pull up. Of course it is. Where else would he go? To Lilly's? The thought sends a fresh wave of nausea through me.

I sit in my car for a long moment, watching the porch light flicker.

The front door opens before I reach it. Jeremy stands in the doorway, dressed now, his hair still damp from the shower that feels like it happened a lifetime ago. His eyes are red-rimmed, but I force myself not to care.

“Lex—” He catches himself. “Alexis. Please, can we talk?”

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