Chapter 2

I grabbed my purse and jacket, unable to stay in that apartment another minute. The broken pearls of my mother's necklace lay scattered across the dining table like tiny witnesses to my breaking heart. Violette's fake apology still echoed in my ears, along with Carson's dismissal of my pain.

"I need to go," I announced, my voice steadier than I expected.

"Go where?" Carson asked, not even looking up from his phone. "We're in the middle of dinner."

"I have my prenatal appointment tomorrow," I said. "I'm going to reschedule it for today instead."

Carson finally looked up, frowning. "But we're celebrating Violette's promotion."

"Congratulations," I said flatly to Violette, who smiled back with that same sweet expression that never reached her eyes. "I hope you understand. The baby's health comes first."

I didn't wait for an answer, just walked out the door with one hand protectively cradling my belly.

The hospital was only a fifteen-minute drive away. I sat in the waiting room, filling out paperwork with trembling hands. My name was called sooner than expected.

"Skylar Alexander?" A nurse called, checking her tablet. "Dr. Wilson will be seeing you today instead of Dr. Patel. Follow me, please."

I followed her down a hallway, trying to remember if I'd heard that name before. The nurse led me to an examination room and left me to change into a gown.

When the door opened again, I nearly fell off the examination table.

"Calvin?"

Calvin Wilson stood in the doorway, his familiar face a shock after all these years. He was taller now, broader shoulders filling out his white coat, but his eyes were the same kind ones I remembered from our childhood.

"Skylar," he said softly, closing the door behind him. "I didn't know you were my patient."

"You're an obstetrician?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious about the thin gown I was wearing.

He nodded, maintaining a professional demeanor despite the surprise in his eyes. "I chose this specialty for reasons I never thought would actually matter."

There was something in his voice that made me wonder if those reasons had anything to do with me.

"Let's get your vitals," he said, reaching for the blood pressure cuff. As he wrapped it around my arm, his fingers brushed against my skin with surprising gentleness.

"Your blood pressure is elevated," he noted, frowning slightly. "Have you been under stress lately?"

I looked away, not wanting to answer. "Just normal pregnancy stuff."

Calvin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Skylar, I've known you since we were children. I can tell when something's wrong."

He moved the stethoscope to my chest, listening to my heartbeat. "Your heart rate is also elevated."

"I'm fine," I insisted, but my voice cracked.

Calvin set down his stethoscope and pulled up a chair beside me instead of standing above me. "I remember when you used to hide behind that big oak tree in my parents' garden whenever you were upset. You'd stay there until someone found you."

I blinked back unexpected tears. "How do you remember that?"

"I remember everything about you, Skylar." His voice was soft but steady. "Including your shellfish allergy, which Carson seems to have forgotten repeatedly."

The mention of Carson nearly broke me. "He doesn't care enough to remember."

Calvin's expression shifted, concern deepening the lines around his eyes. "Tell me what's happening."

And suddenly, I was telling him everything. About the postponed wedding, about Violette's son taking precedence over our baby, about the playroom replacing our nursery, about my mother's broken necklace.

"He's supposed to be my fiancé," I whispered, tears flowing freely now. "But he spends more time with her than with me."

Calvin handed me a tissue, his hand lingering near mine. "I'm so sorry, Skylar."

After examining me and confirming the baby was still healthy despite my stress levels, Calvin led me to his office for some paperwork.

"Wait here for a moment," he said. "I need to check something with the lab."

I nodded, wiping my eyes and trying to compose myself. The office was warm and inviting, with certificates on the wall and family photos on his desk.

I was staring at one of the photos when I heard voices outside the door. One of them was familiar—Carson's voice, tense and low.

"I can't just abandon Violette now," he was saying. "Not when she's carrying my child too."

My blood ran cold. I moved closer to the door, hardly daring to breathe.

"But what about Skylar?" Another voice asked—his mother, I realized.

"I'll figure something out," Carson replied. "I always do."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. All this time, all his excuses and postponements and lies—they weren't just about Violette's son.

They were about her baby too.

Carson's baby.