TAMSIN

I stared at him.

The words didn't land. Not at first.

"Say that again."

James held my gaze. "Isla is pregnant. With my baby."

I gripped the doorframe. The floor shifted beneath me.

"It happened that night," he continued, voice steady, as if he were discussing the weather. "Two months ago. The night we... the accident."

Accident.

That's what he'd called it when he stumbled home reeking of bourbon and someone else's perfume. When he'd collapsed at my feet, sobbing so hard I thought he might choke on it.

An accident.

"She's almost eight weeks along," he added. "The doctor confirmed it yesterday."

I let out a sound. Sharp and brittle. Might have been a laugh in some other woman's life. "So that's why you were at the hospital."

"Tammy, I know this is a shock." James stepped closer. "But listen to me. This could be a good thing."

"A good thing."

"Yes." His hands found my shoulders. I didn't have the strength to shake them off. "We've been trying for a baby for years. You know how desperately we've wanted this. And now we have a chance."

"A chance," I echoed.

"Isla has agreed to carry the baby to term, then step away." His grip tightened, as if he could press understanding into me through sheer force. "The baby would be ours, Tammy. Our child. Everything we've been waiting for."

Ours.

Tears came before I could stop them. I didn't bother wiping them away.

"Don't you see?" His voice took on that coaxing quality he used when explaining things to difficult clients. "No one has to lose here. Isla moves on with her life. We get our complete family. Everyone wins."

I looked past him.

Isla sat on the couch, picture-perfect stillness. One hand rested low on her stomach in a gesture I recognized from countless pregnancy announcements. She wasn't crying. Wasn't performing. Just sitting there with her eyes downcast, expression serene.

She looked like a Madonna painting.

"Her pregnancy is high-risk," James continued. "She'll need constant care. If you could take some time off work, maybe a year, help me look after her until the baby comes, everything would be perfect."

Perfect.

He tilted his head, searching my face like I was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. "Why can't you see that?"

I said nothing.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand. Met his eyes.

"If you'd shown up last night like you promised," I said quietly, "you would have found out that I'm pregnant."

The silence that followed had weight.

James went still. "What?"

"I'm pregnant." Each word came out deliberately. "With your child. I found out yesterday morning. Spent all afternoon planning how to tell you. Thought you'd be happy." My voice cracked despite my best efforts. "Silly me."

His hands dropped from my shoulders. "Tammy, you're..."

"Pregnant," I finished. "Yes."

I turned my head toward Isla. She was staring at me now, her careful composure finally slipping. Her fingers curled against her stomach in a gesture that might have been protective or possessive. Hard to tell.

"What does it even matter?" I asked no one in particular.

Then I turned and began to walk toward our bedroom.

Behind me, James called my name, but I kept walking.

In the bedroom, I dragged my suitcase from the closet. Threw it on the bed hard enough to make the frame creak.

My hands shook as I yanked open drawers. Grabbed clothes. Didn't fold them. Didn't care.

For three years, James had been everything I'd convinced myself didn't exist.

He'd pursued me relentlessly after we met. Wore down every objection I had. Made me feel chosen in a way that rewired something fundamental in my chest. When his family looked down their aristocratic noses at me, he stood between us like a wall. When they blamed me for our empty nursery, he defended me.

For three years, we'd been perfect.

Then Isla Parker came back from wherever wealthy, beautiful women go to become more of both.

The changes started small. A missed dinner here. A late-night phone call there. James canceling plans because Isla needed something only he could provide.

When I complained, he called me unreasonable. When I asked for boundaries, he called it jealousy.

I'd clung to the memory of who we'd been before Isla. The man who'd made me believe in fairy tales. Told myself it would pass once she left again.

It didn't pass.

Two months ago, James came home looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He dropped to his knees on our kitchen floor and wept like a child.

They'd been drinking. One thing led to another. He didn't even remember it happening until he woke up in her bed with his clothes scattered across her floor.

He begged. Swore he'd cut her out completely. Promised I'd never have to share him with her again.

And I'd forgiven him.

Because I remembered the three years before Isla. The man who'd loved me so fiercely I thought nothing could touch us.

For a while, it worked. James came back to me. Isla vanished. No more midnight calls, no more emergency brunches. It felt like healing.

I'd actually believed I had my husband back.

The door opened behind me.

"Tammy, please." James's voice cracked. "Don't do this."

I didn't turn around. Just kept packing.

"It was an accident," he said. "You know that. We were drunk. I never planned any of this. I never wanted to hurt you."

I zipped the suitcase shut with more force than necessary, and finally looked at him.

"You're asking me to stay in this house," I said slowly, "while your mistress carries your baby. You're asking me to put my career on hold, my life on pause, to care for her. So she can give birth to your child."

"She's not my mistress."

"Then what is she, James?" My voice climbed. "Your best friend? The woman you accidentally slept with? The woman you're now asking me to play nursemaid to for the next twelve months?"

"Tammy..."

"She's supposed to be your best friend," I cut him off. "And I'm supposed to be your wife. Both of us can't be in the same house carrying your children. I won't have it. I won't raise illegitimate babies alongside my own."

He stared at me like I'd suggested we burn the house down.

"It's either my baby or hers," I said. "Though I think last night made it pretty clear which one you'd choose."

"That's not fair."

"Fair?" I laughed, and it came out wrong. "You chose her over me last night. Dismissed me like a secretary who'd interrupted an important meeting. Brought her into our home. And now you want me to play happy families while she incubates your backup plan?"

He dragged both hands through his hair. When he spoke again, his voice had gone raw. "I was terrified. Last night, I was cold to you because I thought if I didn't support her completely, she'd get rid of the baby. I didn't know what else to do."

I studied him. This man I'd married. This stranger wearing his face.

Then I crossed my arms.

"Fine," I said.

Hope sparked in his eyes like a match strike.

"If you want me to stay," I continued, "I'll stay. If you want my forgiveness, you'll have it."

His breath caught. "Thank you. God, Tammy, thank you..."

"On one condition."

He went still. "Anything."

"Isla terminates the pregnancy."

The hope in his eyes died so fast I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

He stared at me in stunned silence.

TAMSIN

"How can you ask for something so absurd?" James's voice climbed. "How do you expect Isla to feel, hearing you say that?"

I let out a short laugh. "Funny. Last night you were terrified she'd terminate. Now you're offended I'm suggesting the same thing. Which version of Isla are we protecting here? The one who didn't want the baby, or the one you convinced to keep it?"

He exhaled through his nose. "Yes, but..."

"Answer a few questions for me," I cut him off.

He nodded, wary now.

"Doesn't Isla have a fiancé?"

"She did." His jaw tightened. "Once he found out she was pregnant with my baby, he called off the engagement."

"Right. And weren't they together for more than two years?"

"They were, Tammy. But I don't see what these unnecessary questions..."

"Unnecessary?" I smiled, but it didn't reach anywhere near my eyes. "One more question then. Is Isla a child?"

He rolled his eyes. "What is all this, Tammy?"

I stood up from the bed. "Forgive me, but I'm trying to wrap my head around something. Isla was with her fiancé for over two years. They definitely had sex regularly. But she took precautions. Understood her cycle. Never once got pregnant."

I took a step toward him.

"Then she sleeps with my husband. One night. Calls it a mistake. Claims she's ashamed." Another step. "But somehow, she conveniently forgot everything she knew about contraception. Forgot about her cycle. And accidentally ended up pregnant. Is now in my home. Expecting me to put my career on hold and play nursemaid while my child competes with hers for their father's attention."

"What are you trying to say, Tammy?"

"I'm saying that if this pregnancy was the unplanned accident you claim, then accidents can be corrected." I crossed my arms. "So what's your decision? Will you have her terminate the pregnancy or not?"

He shook his head. "Tammy, don't do..."

"Yes or no."

Silence.

He just stared at me, mouth half-open like he'd forgotten how words worked.

I took that as my answer and went back to packing.

Of course he wouldn't say yes. Of course Isla would never agree.

They'd played me beautifully. The whole performance about it being an accident. A drunken mistake neither of them planned.

He probably asked her to carry his child months ago. And that snake seized the opportunity with both hands.

In the past, I'd suggested IUI. Even IVF. But no, he'd said we weren't desperate enough yet. All our tests came back normal. He believed I'd conceive naturally if we just kept trying.

All lies.

He'd been prepping his best friend to be his surrogate. Without bothering to use my eggs.

"Tammy." His voice came from behind me.

"Get out."

When he didn't move, I turned. "Get out of my sight, James."

"I accept."

I stared at him. "What?"

"I agree to your terms," he said, clearer now.

I nodded slowly. "All right then. Let's get it over with."

"Right now?" His voice pitched up in surprise.

I smiled but there was no warmth in it. "Why, were you hoping to wait until she delivers? Let's go."

He nodded once and walked out of the room.

I followed behind him, suitcase forgotten on the bed.

We walked into the living room together. Isla sat exactly where we had left her, hand resting on her stomach like she was posing for a portrait.

She looked up and took in our expressions. Her eyes widened with what might have been concern if I still believed in her performances.

"What's wrong?" Her voice came out small, worried.

James didn't waste time. "You'll need to terminate the pregnancy."

Isla's head snapped back like he'd struck her. "What? No. I won't kill my baby."

"Tammy's already pregnant," James said, his voice harder than I'd heard it in months. "It doesn't make sense for both of you to carry my children. You're my best friend, Isla. This situation is impossible."

He paused and took a breath.

"Besides, you told me yesterday you wanted to terminate. That you were worried about Tammy's reaction. I was the one who insisted you keep it." His tone shifted into something almost gentle. "But now that Tammy's pregnant, there's no reason for you to go through with this."

I stared at him.

He was doing exactly what I'd demanded. No hesitation. No backtracking. Just clean, decisive action.

Had I been wrong? Was the pregnancy really an accident and not the calculated trap I'd imagined?

Guilt crept in, cold and unwelcome. This was the man who'd given me three perfect years. Maybe I'd been too quick to assume the worst.

Isla was crying now. Full sobs that shook her shoulders. But James didn't move toward her. Didn't soften.

I walked over to him and took his hand.

I was going to tell him it was fine. That Isla could keep the baby. That I'd accept his child because I still loved him, even after everything.

The words were forming on my tongue when the front door crashed open.

James's mother swept in like a storm front, tears streaming down her face. Happy ones.

"Is it true?" She didn't direct the question at anyone specific. "Am I finally going to be a grandmother?"

I sighed. Of course she was here. The woman who'd spent four years making it abundantly clear that a doctor with no trust fund wasn't good enough for her son.

James nodded.

His mother let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. She rushed past me like I was furniture and pulled Isla into her arms.

"Oh, my darling girl! Congratulations!"

Isla cried harder.

Mrs. Whitmore pulled back, cupping Isla's face between her perfectly manicured hands. "Why are you crying? This is wonderful news!"

"James wants me to abort the baby," Isla choked out between sobs.

Mrs. Whitmore's head whipped toward her son. "What? Have you lost your mind? How can you even think of destroying such a blessing?"

"Tammy's pregnant," James said flatly. "What happened with Isla was a mistake. It needs to be corrected."

His mother stood and walked toward us. Her eyes slid over me like I was something she'd found on the bottom of her shoe.

"This dry well?" Her voice dripped disdain. "She's pregnant? How convenient. I'm sure she's the one demanding you get rid of Isla's child. I've always known she was nothing but a manipulative little bitch."

I let out a short laugh. "Of course. Even if I gave birth to quintuplets, it still wouldn't matter to you, would it?"

She ignored me and turned back to James. "When did you find out Tammy was supposedly pregnant?"

"This morning," he said. "After I told her about Isla."

"And when did you learn about Isla's pregnancy?"

"Yesterday. Right before I was supposed to go home to Tammy's surprise dinner."

Mrs. Whitmore's smile turned poisonous. "Interesting. Four years and three months of marriage, and Tammy never conceived. But the moment she finds out Isla's pregnant, suddenly she is too?" She crossed her arms. "Why didn't she mention it sooner if it's real? Sounds like a convenient lie to me."

"What is that supposed to mean, Mrs. Whitmore?" My voice came out sharper than I'd intended.

Isla gasped. Actual performance-level shock. "Tamsin, how could you lie to James about being pregnant just to get rid of my baby?"

"What nonsense," I snapped.

But Isla was committed now. Full tears, hand clutching her stomach. "Tamsin, how could you do this to him? Don't you want him to be a father? You'd really leave him childless just because you hate me?"

Mrs. Whitmore's hand flew up, ready to slap me.

I caught her wrist mid-swing and shoved it back at her.

"I am pregnant," I said through my teeth. I looked at James. His face had gone carefully blank. I picked up my phone. "I have test results in my email. From Bright Star Hospital."

"But you work there," Isla said softly, almost apologetically. "You could easily have a colleague falsify results."

I looked at the three of them. Mrs. Whitmore with her hatred. Isla with her calculated innocence. James with doubt creeping into his eyes.

I laughed. The sound came out bitter. "Fine. I'll take a home pregnancy test right now."

However, James moved fast, snatched my phone from my hand and hurled it against the wall. It exploded into pieces.

"That is enough, Tammy!" he shouted.

TAMSIN

"How could you?"

James's voice came out raw and broken.

"How could you betray me like this? Lie about being pregnant just to manipulate me into killing my child?" He dragged both hands through his hair, pacing. "Do you understand what you almost made me do? I was going to make Isla terminate. Because I believed you. Because I trusted you."

The words landed like blows.

"What kind of person does that?" His voice cracked. "What kind of person uses a fake pregnancy as a weapon?"

I stood there. Frozen. Tears sliding down my face.

He looked at me one more time. Something that might have been pain flashed across his face. Then he turned and walked out.

The silence that followed felt like drowning.

I became aware of movement behind me and turned my head slowly.

Isla was smiling. Not the careful, tragic smile she wore for James. This one was pure triumph.

She turned to Mrs. Whitmore, who immediately swept her into another embrace.

"Don't worry, darling," the older woman cooed. "We'll get you married to James before the baby comes. You'll be family. Properly this time."

I turned away, and walked back toward the bedroom on legs that didn't feel attached to my body.

Of course I was a fool, I thought. What was I expecting? James never planned to choose me. It was all performance. In the end, he showed me exactly where I stood.

A wave of nausea hit me so hard I had to grip the doorframe.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up.

Afterward, I stood at the sink, hands shaking, hungry but unable to imagine eating. There was this tightness in my chest that made breathing feel like work.

I quickly washed up, went back to the bedroom, and started packing what was left of my things.

Then, I heard footsteps behind me.

I didn't turn around. Maybe James had come back. Maybe he'd realized how wrong he was.

But it was too late. My mind was made up.

But the voice that spoke wasn't his.

"Leaving so soon?"

I turned. Isla stood in the doorway, that smile still playing at her lips.

My stomach cramped, hard. I didn't have the energy for this.

"Yes," I said flatly. "You can have him."

She laughed. It was soft and musical. "Oh, Tamsin. You are not giving him to me. I'm taking back what was always mine." She stepped into the room. "James belonged to me long before you showed up and stole him. But don't worry. I'm here to correct that mistake now."

I'd suspected it for months. The way she looked at him. The way she inserted herself into every corner of our marriage. But hearing her say it out loud still landed like a blow.

"Congratulations," I managed. "You've won."

Because she had. There was nothing left to salvage here. The man I'd loved was gone. The one left behind was a stranger who thought I was capable of faking a pregnancy to destroy his child.

That hurt worse than anything else. Worse than the affair. Worse than the baby. Worse than all of it.

He thought I was lying.

I tried to lift my suitcase, but it was too heavy. My arms felt like water, so I left it on the floor.

James had destroyed my phone. I'd have to go out if I needed someone to help with my luggage. It was better to leave now and come back for my things later.

I was halfway to the door when Isla's hand shot out, grabbed my arm and shoved me backward.

"That bastard in your stomach won't save you," she hissed.

I staggered, and caught myself on the bedpost.

Something in me snapped.

My hand flew up before I thought about it, and connected with her face with a crack that echoed.

Isla screamed. Loud enough to wake the dead.

I didn't care. I raised my hand a second time, but James burst through the door and caught my wrist mid-swing.

"Tammy, stop!" His voice was sharp with shock. "What are you doing?"

I tried to pull away, but he held on, though not roughly. Like he was trying to restrain me without hurting me.

Isla sobbed. Perfect, theatrical sobs. "I only came to talk to her. To ask her not to be angry with you. To give my baby a chance because it's yours too." Her voice broke beautifully. "She just attacked me for no reason."

"Let me go," I said through my teeth.

James released my wrist and stepped back.

I stumbled, and my foot caught on the suitcase. I tried to catch myself but my body was moving wrong, too fast.

My stomach slammed into the bedpost.

Pain exploded through me. White-hot and terrible.

I cried out. Doubled over. One hand clutching my abdomen. I collapsed forward, upper body draping over the bed, legs still on the floor. I couldn't straighten. I couldn't move.

Something warm trickled down my inner thighs.