Chapter 1
The day I found out I was pregnant, I learned that Jonathan Reed's first love, Sophie Grant, was returning.
I stayed calm, cooked dinner, and waited.
Jonathan didn't come home.
He texted: [Working late. Don't wait up.]
I opened Sophie's social media feed.
Seconds later, I scheduled the abortion, my face blank.
*****
When I woke up, there was no one home but me.
I grabbed a quick bite and headed to the hospital for my pre-op checkup.
As I stepped out with my test results, I suddenly came face-to-face with the two people I'd been desperately avoiding.
It was Jonathan and his first love, Sophie.
They were walking shoulder to shoulder toward me, chatting about something.
Whatever they were talking about must've been funny because both of them had faint smiles tugging at their lips.
I spun around, trying to make a quick escape.
But it was too late. Jonathan spotted me right away.
"Emily Lane?" he called out.
He strode over confidently, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing here?"
I turned around, nerves jangling, and instinctively hid the pregnancy test results behind my back.
"My stomach's been acting up, so I came to get it checked," I replied.
Jonathan's brow furrowed as he looked me over, clearly concerned. "You're not feeling well? Why didn't you tell me before?"
I mentally rolled my eyes.
As if I could say anything when he was wrapped up in Sophie's arms.
I turned to look at Sophie, who was standing right next to Jonathan.
She wore a white dress, and her eyes were beautiful.
Jonathan'd got the brains, and Sophie'd got the looks. They really were perfect for each other.
"So, what did the doctor say?" Jonathan asked.
He didn't bother introducing Sophie. He strode over and reached for the report in my hand.
I gripped the report, refusing to hand it over. "Doctor said there's nothing wrong," I replied.
Jonathan's frown tightened, his voice low and insistent. "Let go."
When I had no choice but to give in, Sophie came up beside Jonathan. "Jonathan, we need to—"
Before she could finish her sentence, she suddenly gasped. "Ah!"
Jonathan and I both turned to look at her.
I felt a wave of resignation.
It happened right on cue.
Sophie tripped and fell out of nowhere.
Sophie sat on the ground, tears streaming down her face from the pain. "I think I twisted my ankle."
She gazed up at Jonathan, looking utterly helpless, and I watched to see how he'd respond.
As Jonathan paused for a moment, I quickly snatched the report back from his hand.
Feigning concern, I said, "A sprained ankle is no joke. You should take Ms. Grant to the orthopedics department to make sure nothing's broken or dislocated."
As soon as I finished talking, Jonathan immediately headed over to Sophie.
He shot her a quick look as she sat on the floor, then offered his hand. "Let's go."
I watched them walk away, then smoothed out the crumpled report in my hand.
My eyes lingered on the weeks of pregnancy printed on it.
As I stared at the fuzzy ultrasound picture, my grip on the paper grew tighter and tighter.
Once their figures disappeared down the hall, I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and stepped into the exam room with the report clutched in my hand.
The doctor sighed as she looked over my report. "Ms. Lane, your uterine lining is already really thin. If you lose this baby, it'll be tough for you to get pregnant again."
I kept staring at the ultrasound report, my hand unconsciously clutching my purse tighter.
But my mind kept flashing back to the post I saw on Sophie's feed last night.
In the photo, a delicate watch was casually placed on the glass table of a hotel suite.
That watch was one I personally designed for Jonathan, as a gift for our wedding anniversary three years ago.
The strap was a Möbius strip, something I'd created especially for him.
Back then, I really believed our love would be like that Möbius strip, endless, with no beginning or end.
No matter which direction life took us, no matter how far we wandered, I thought we'd always find our way back to each other.