Pregnant by the Ex I Can't Remember
I woke up in a hospital bed with no memory of the last year, a positive pregnancy test in my hand, and the woman I swore I'd never speak to again offering me the only roof for miles. Vivian Bellingham—sharp, untouchable, and the last person I wanted near my baby—says the child is hers. But I can't remember touching her, kissing her, or falling so hard I destroyed us both. Now I'm stuck in her cliffside mansion, belly growing, while every accidental brush of her fingers makes my body remember what my mind won't. How long can I pretend this baby isn't ripping us both apart again?
Chapters
The first thing I noticed was the smell of antiseptic and something sweeter underneath it, like old roses left too long in water. My head throbbed in time with the beeping monitor beside me. When I tr...
Read more →The kitchen smelled like burnt sugar and regret when I finally dragged myself out of bed around ten. My head felt stuffed with wet cotton, and my leg throbbed in time with the rain hammering the windo...
Read more →The living room smelled like wet wool and expensive cologne, the kind that sticks in your throat until you want to hack it out. Marcus stood dripping on the hardwood, flowers sagging in his fist like...
Read more →The storm hadn't let up since Marcus left. Rain still hammered the roof like it wanted in. My body had decided morning sickness wasn't just for mornings anymore. It came in waves that left me sweating...
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