"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?
