"Take responsibility? How? It's easy to say that now, but the second you actually have the baby, he'll turn around and walk out!"

My thoughts drifted to the look on a certain someone's face when he'd found out.

A smile crept onto my lips without my realizing it.

He would take responsibility.

The moment he learned I was pregnant, he'd wired me a million dollars without missing a beat and personally arranged every last thing the baby would need.

At the very least, he had more backbone than Toby Harding ever did.

"Mom, relax. Your daughter's not stupid. I'm heading to work."

I grabbed my bag and went down to the garage.

When I reached my car, I found Toby's blocking the way out completely.

My first instinct was to move it for him.

I rummaged through my bag for a while before remembering that the day we'd started giving each other the silent treatment, he'd taken the key back.

I pulled out my phone, hesitated, then scrolled all the way down to his chat.

Can you move your car? I need to get to work.

A red exclamation mark appeared the next second, sharp as a slap.

I opened his Instagram. The profile banner that had been the same forever was gone, replaced by a photo of interlaced fingers and a relationship announcement.

I let out a bitter laugh and put my phone away.

Right. He'd already taken his key back. Blocking my number was just the natural next step.

I turned to leave and nearly fell when my foot caught on something.

My heart lurched. I grabbed the side mirror just in time to steady myself.

The ground around the car was littered with things I'd left in his car over the years.

The jacket off my own back that I'd draped over him on freezing winter nights when he'd had too much to drink.

The blessing amulet I'd climbed a thousand temple steps to get, just to keep him safe.

The little first-aid kit I'd put together by hand because I worried he'd get sick.

…

The rest was scattered odds and ends, lipsticks and false lashes I'd accidentally left behind on our outings.

If the person meant nothing to him, then everything she'd left behind was just trash.

I peered through the passenger-side window. The seat had been completely redecorated.

A pink cushion. A cute stuffed animal strapped to the headrest. A toy steering wheel stuck to the dashboard.

Back when I used to put even the smallest charm in his car, he'd throw it out.

"You put something that cute in here, people will think I have a girlfriend. Then what?"

My eyes stung. So this was what it looked like when someone actually had a place in his heart.

I bent down, swept every last item into the trash, and called a ride.

I'd barely settled into the seat when my phone exploded with a call from Darcy Palmer, my best friend since high school.

"Zoe! That little rat Toby Harding is getting engaged!"

Hearing the news a second time, I was far calmer.

"Yeah. I just found out too."

"So you already saw his Instagram? We were all floored. The guy who never posts anything suddenly drops five photo dumps in a row! We all assumed the bride was you! And then it turned out to be..."

I didn't want to hear the rest. I cut her off.

"Want to hear something even bigger?"

Darcy jumped on it immediately.

"What?!"

My voice softened, warmth pooling at the corners of my eyes. "I'm pregnant. You're going to be a godmother."

"WHAT?!"

"I'm serious. Just hit three months."

I sent her the medical report. She was so excited she sounded close to tears.

"I honestly thought you were going to waste your whole life on Toby Harding. I was literally about to call you and beg you to stop banging your head against that wall. But look at you, you absolute queen, you went and got yourself pregnant first! This is amazing!"

"Now spill. Who's the dad?"

I kept her in suspense. "Give it a few days. Once he's done with work and back in town, you'll be the very first person I introduce him to."

She agreed eagerly. We chatted a bit more about baby prep, then hung up.

I'd barely sat down at my desk when Darcy posted on Instagram.

Thank the Lord above, thank my girl Zoe. I'M OFFICIALLY A GODMOTHER!!!

I was just about to text her to keep it low-key.

The next second, Toby, who'd vanished from my entire digital existence, left a comment:

? You're in on the act too?

Darcy fired back instantly: "Don't let those of us WITH kids be held up by someone who doesn't have any! What, are you blind? Can't see the hospital's official stamp?"

Half the frustration knotted up in my chest finally loosened.

I hummed to myself through the rest of the afternoon.

Then I snapped a photo of the flowers someone had sent to help me relax and posted it on Instagram.

"It's nice to have someone who cares."

Toby, who never interacted with my posts, actually replied:

"Does lying to yourself actually help? Don't go around telling people I sent those."

In his eyes, I wasn't even worth that much.

I didn't respond.

After work, while I was waiting for my ride, a familiar car pulled up in front of me.

Toby rolled down the window, irritation written across his face. "Get in."

I stayed where I was. "I already called a car."

"I'm not asking. Get in."

I had no choice. I texted the other person not to send a driver after all.

Out of habit I walked toward the passenger side, but one sharp glance from him stopped me.

I got in the back without a word.

Toby drove fast. Too fast. The wind tore through the open window like a blade against my skin.

At a red light, he reached for a cigarette without thinking and lit it.

Then his eyes dropped to my still-flat stomach. He crushed the cigarette out.

"You can't keep this baby. What happened that night, I can compensate you for it, but I'm not taking responsibility for a child's future."

My hand drifted to my belly. Something clenched tight around my heart.

"The way you talk, it's like I forced you that night. Let me say it again: I don't need you to take responsibility. The baby isn't yours."

Toby swore under his breath and slammed his palm against the horn.

"You're still keeping up this act? I don't think you're attractive enough for some other guy to want you."

He studied me through the rearview mirror. Nothing but mockery in his eyes.

The car window caught my reflection: sallow skin, hollow cheeks. I didn't bother arguing with what he said.

Toby had always been the golden boy. Tall, handsome, hardworking in school, good at sports.

The girls who chased him could've lined up from our front doors all the way to campus. Even my breakfast got covered by his little fan club.

Plain-looking as I was, they'd silently agreed I posed no threat.

The first time I handed him a love letter on someone else's behalf, he looked genuinely alarmed:

"Hey, why are you giving me a love letter? I don't like you. Don't make this weird."

I pushed my thick glasses up my nose and told him the truth:

"I didn't write it. Someone asked me to pass it along."

"Oh. Good." He let out a long breath of relief. "Just so we're clear, don't get any ideas about me. You're basically genderless in my eyes."

The sting of those words sat somewhere I couldn't name, but I followed him around obediently for three years anyway.

Then we ended up in the same class in high school.

One day after basketball practice, he went out of his way to find me and grab my water bottle.

"Let me have a sip. I'm dying here."

The setting sun hit his sweat-slicked face, and he was blinding.

For the first time, my ears went red as I told him no.

"What's the big deal? Since when are you this stingy with your buddy?"

He snatched it anyway, tipped his head back, and drank.

After he tossed the bottle back, I slipped into a corner where no one was looking and secretly took a sip from the same spot.

That was when I knew. I'd fallen for him.

And he didn't feel the same.

I started caring about how I looked. Tried ditching the glasses. Clumsily smeared on makeup until my face looked like a mess.

He laughed without mercy. "Hideous."

Later, I threw away over fifty points on my SATs because I was dead set on going to college in the same city as him.

Truth-or-dare confessions, drunken rambling, dramatic scenes, every kind of desperate hint I could manage.

All I ever got back was his contempt and our mutual friends' vicious teasing.

The last time was three months ago, at a birthday party.

I'd gone out to grab him cold medicine and was heading back to the private room when I heard the group crowded around Toby, placing bets:

"Toby, you think Zoe's gonna try dropping hints again tonight? How many times has it been now? If not ten thousand, at least 9,999?"

Toby's lips curled into a faint smirk.

"Doesn't matter how many times she hints. I'll just play dumb. She's useful for everything except being a girlfriend."

My hand froze in midair. I lost every ounce of courage to push that door open.

That was the first time I didn't clumsily try to hint at my feelings.

After the party ended, he was the one who seemed uneasy. He grabbed my arm and asked if I had something to say.

I shook my head. He took me to a hotel anyway, almost petulantly insisting he wanted a straight answer.

The next morning, he woke up, pulled on his clothes with a look of disgust, and cut me off completely.

A sudden brake yanked me back to the present. The car had stopped in an underground garage.

I thought it over and decided to tell him the truth about that night.

"Toby, that night we didn't actually—"

Before I could finish the words nothing happened, he shoved the car door open and walked away without looking back.

"Bella, don't worry, I'll be right there. Just wait for me."

He left without hesitation, leaving me alone, pounding helplessly on the windows for help.

Only then did it register. The name on his lips. Bella.

The only girl who had ever turned him down.

I waited. And waited. Until the small hours of the morning, when I finally understood he wasn't coming back.

He'd finally gotten his dream girl. Why would he let me ruin it?

I thought about calling Darcy.

But I was afraid Toby would think I was making a scene, that it would upset his precious Bella.

By the time I'd gone back and forth enough, the oxygen had thinned out and I blacked out.

……

When I came to, white walls and the sharp bite of disinfectant filled my senses.

Noise crashed in around me. May was tearing into Toby at full volume:

"Have you lost your mind? You knew Zoe was pregnant, and you left her locked in a car all night? If anything happens to that baby, you might as well stop breathing too!"

Mom was angry, but she still tried to smooth things over:

"Alright, alright, everyone's fine. He's still young."

I coughed twice, cutting them both short.

Mom rushed to the bedside, her eyes brimming with worry:

"Zoe, are you feeling any better? The doctor said your body's weak. They barely managed to save the baby. Promise me you'll stay out of danger from now on, okay?"

Every word, spoken or implied, was an indictment of Toby.

May's face stiffened with embarrassment, but she kept the smile plastered on:

"That's right, Zoe, you need to take care of yourself. I'll make sure this reckless boy of mine stays out of your hair."

The way she said it made it sound like I'd been the one chasing after her son.

I turned my head away weakly, but Toby cut his mother off:

"I'm the one who went after Zoe. Quit the passive-aggressive act."

He shuffled awkwardly to my side and held a bowl of soup to my lips.

I kept my distance and refused to swallow a single drop.

That set him off. He slammed the bowl down hard. "You won't drink it? If something happens to the baby, that's on you, not me!"

I almost laughed. He'd been insisting up and down that the baby had nothing to do with him.

Now this? What exactly was he playing at?

Behind him, May's expression shifted. A flicker of displeasure crossed her eyes as she looked at me.

I said flatly:

"The baby has a father. You don't need to worry about it."

His face darkened another shade.

"You're in your first trimester. I'm not going to argue with you right now. I got everything ready based on what I looked up online. Just take care of yourself."

I glanced at the side of the bed. Baby supplies were piled up in heaps, covering every surface.

Toby still had it all wrong.

Since everyone was here, I might as well clear things up once and for all. Save a certain someone the trouble of getting jealous and staking a claim.

Before I could get a word out, a slender, striking figure walked through the door.