Chapter 2
My words cut through the thick silence like a rock crashing into still water—total chaos broke loose.
Confusion clouded Carson's face, hardening into a cold, stony look.
A storm raged in his hollow eyes, churning like the ocean right before a brutal tempest hit.
After a long beat, he forced a twisted smile onto his lips—one that looked way more gut-wrenching than tears.
"Grace, this isn't the time for jokes," he rasped, his voice rough and threadbare.
"I'm flat broke—dead broke, actually. Not a single lousy dollar to my name.
"I can't keep footing your bills anymore, and I'm in no shape to raise a kid."
He figured I was using the baby as a last-ditch Hail Mary, trying to squeeze every last penny he had left out of him.
I saw no point in explaining myself.
Wordlessly, I pulled a folded slip of paper from my purse, unfolded it, and plopped it down on the coffee table right in front of him.
It was an early pregnancy ultrasound report.
Next to the blurry black-and-white scan, the print was plain as day: Six weeks early pregnancy.
The date was marked three days prior.
Carson's gaze locked onto the paper, sharp and unblinking, as if he could burn a hole straight through it with his stare alone.
'Daddy doesn't buy it,' the tiny voice whispered inside my head.
'He thinks you're lying, that this report's a fake.'
The baby let out a soft, wronged little sigh in my mind.
I held Carson's gaze steady.
"You don't have to believe me," I said calmly.
"But you need to hand over what you're clutching."
I held out my hand, palm up, waiting.
I wanted the prescription sleeping pill bottle he was squeezing for dear life.
Carson might as well have not heard a word. His eyes stayed glued to the ultrasound, his breathing getting heavy and all over the place.
"No way..." he muttered under his breath, dazed.
"We were always careful. How the hell could this happen..."
He snapped his head up in a split second, his gaze sharp as a knife, pinning me down with raw suspicion.
"Did you plan this on purpose?"
His tone dripped with betrayal and distrust.
I met his stare head-on, no flinching.
"No."
That was all I said.
It had truly been nothing but an accident.
I'd never schemed to trap him with a kid, never dreamed this little life would pop up right when he hit rock bottom and lost everything.
'Daddy's scared,' the baby murmured softly in my mind.
'He's afraid you're hiding something, that you'll use this baby against him.
'His heart's all tangled up, like a knotty ball of yarn.'
Through the child's innocent voice, I could feel every bit of Carson's inner turmoil and agony.
It wasn't that he didn't want this baby.
He just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that, when he had zilch left to his name, something as precious as a new life had landed right in his lap.
My heart softened a little.
"Carson, I don't want your money," I said quietly.
"I just want you to get this—whatever stupid choice you're thinking of making now, you've got someone else to think about.
"This little one hasn't even gotten to see the light of day."
My hand stayed outstretched, firm and unyielding.
Carson's eyes drifted slowly from my face down to my stomach.
It was still perfectly flat, not a single sign of the life growing inside me.
Even so, he knew it was real—flesh and blood, his kid.
The edge and anger melted from his eyes, replaced only by overwhelming confusion and helplessness.
He looked like a man dying of thirst in the middle of the desert, spotting a distant mirage he ached to reach—yet scared out of his wits it was just an illusion.
We stood there frozen like that for what felt like an eternity.
My arm ached from holding it out for so long.
Finally, he moved.
His fingers loosened their grip. The white pill bottle slipped out of his hand, tumbling silently onto the soft plush carpet.
I bent down right away and picked it up, squeezing it tight in my hand.
In my palm, it felt like I was holding our future—mine, and the baby's.
"The house, the cars, all of it..." Carson's voice was faint, strained, like he was choking out every word from deep in his chest. "The bank staff will be here tomorrow slapping foreclosure notices on every piece of property I own.
"I've got nothing left to give you.
"You can still walk away scot-free right now. Take the baby and go."
He closed his eyes, every line on his face etched with exhaustion and hopeless despair.
He was still pushing me away—not because he didn't want us, but because he thought he had nothing worthwhile left to offer.
'Daddy's lying,' the baby's voice piped up in my thoughts.
'He's begging in his heart: Mommy, don't leave. Stay with me.
'He's petrified of being all alone.'
That innocent little voice cut right through Carson's cold, detached act, laying his true feelings out in the open.
I stared at his pale, worn-out profile, and the last wall around my heart crumbled.
"I already told you—I don't want a single thing from you."
I walked over and sat down next to him, leaving a little empty space between us.
"I just need a place to crash until you figure things out," I said gently. "For him... and for you."
Carson's long lashes trembled, but he kept his eyes shut tight.
"I've got a small apartment in the old downtown area," he said hoarsely.
"It's tiny, run-down, nothing fancy. My mom bought it for me back in college, and it's been sitting empty ever since.
"You won't like it," he added quietly.
He still saw me as the same Grace who'd only ever lived in luxury penthouses, dined at fancy restaurants, and been spoiled rotten by the best money could buy.
"Just give me the address," I said plainly.
Carson finally opened his eyes and studied me for a long minute, all kinds of complicated emotions flickering across his face.
It was as if he was seeing a whole new side of me he'd never known existed.
"You're dead set on this?" he asked.
"You wanna stay with a bankrupt nobody, crammed into some crummy little old apartment?"
I nodded without a second thought.
"I've made up my mind."
For the baby growing inside me—the one who only talked to me.
And for the man who was its father.
I had no intention of walking away.
Carson fell into a heavy silence.
After a long pause, he finally gave me the apartment address.
Just then, his phone buzzed sharply, shattering the thick quiet hanging over the room.
The screen lit up with a stark notification: Foreclosure Notice.
Carson glanced at the message, his already pale face turning even paler.
He turned to me, a hint of panic creeping into his tone.
"We gotta move out," he said.
"By the end of today."