When I pushed open the front door with a pale face, I saw Kyle bare-chested, moving back and forth under Serena.
When he saw me, he covered his chest and let out a startled cry.
Serena immediately turned to look at me, her eyes ice-cold.
"You're back and you didn't even give us a heads up. What if you scared him and the baby!"
"Oh, right—the doctor said I'm about to go into labor and need to rest, so I just brought him home to stay here."
As if afraid I wouldn't agree, she added:
"Don't worry about your father. There are people with him around the clock. Actually, your father is the only reason I came back this time."
So I forced down the nausea in my heart and kept my voice steady.
"Got it."
I headed straight upstairs.
But when I pushed the door open, I found my belongings piled in a mess by the doorway. The sheets in the master bedroom had been changed to the lace style I hated most. Even the huge wedding photo on the wall was gone—lying in the trash can now, replaced by Serena's maternity photos.
In the photo, her belly was huge and round. Kyle was kneeling on the ground, kissing it, his face glowing with the joy of becoming a father for the first time.
The pain sliced through my chest like a knife. My fingers drifted unconsciously to my own flattened abdomen.
In a daze, familiar footsteps approached from behind.
Serena.
She pulled me into her arms.
"Alex, I know I've put you through a lot. Once the baby's born, everything will go back to how it was."
"For the sake of what we've had all these years—promise me you won't make things hard for him, okay?"
I let out a bitter laugh.
So she knew. She knew exactly what she'd put me through, and she still chose this.
Without showing it, I stepped back, pulled the divorce papers from my bag, and handed them to her.
"Serena. Let's get a divorce."
Her head snapped up, disbelief flooding her face.
"What did you say? You want to divorce me?"
"Over this? I told you—I just want a child of my own. What's wrong with that!"
Those few words tore through me. I nodded. "You're right. You're not wrong."
"The one who's wrong is me. If I hadn't saved you back then—if my dad hadn't thrown himself in front of that car for you—then it wouldn't… wouldn't…"
The tears I'd been holding back spilled over first.
Seeing me like this, something in Serena's expression softened.