Ethan POV

I couldn’t sleep that night. Her question—“Who am I pregnant for? Is it you?”—echoed in my skull like a relentless drum. I stared at the ceiling of my room, the shadows cast by the night lamp carving shapes that twisted and shifted with my thoughts. Every second that ticked by made the walls feel smaller, the air heavier.

And then, as if the universe enjoyed tormenting me, my father’s words from a few nights ago came flooding back like a poison I’d tried to spit out ...