After His Mistress Said She’s Pregnant, I Left

I woke up at six. I didn't remember falling asleep. The phone on my nightstand showed three messages from Matthias.

I didn't open them.

I showered. I dressed. I made coffee in my parents' kitchen while the house was still quiet. My mother found me there twenty minutes later, standing by the window with an empty cup in my hand.

"You're up early," she said.

I turned. "Couldn't sleep."

She studied my face for a long moment. Then she crossed the kitchen and put her hand on my arm. "Talia."

"I'm fine," I said.

She didn't believe me. I could see it in her eyes. But she nodded anyway and let me go.

I checked my phone in the car. The messages were exactly what I expected.

*Morning, beautiful. Thinking about you.*

*Let me take you somewhere nice this weekend to make up for last night?*

*I know you're probably upset. I'm sorry. Work's been crazy.*

I set the phone in the cupholder and started the engine.

The apartment was across town. The one we'd picked out together six months ago. The one with the big windows and the kitchen island I'd spent an entire Saturday choosing bar stools for. I'd hung curtains. I'd bought coffee mugs. I'd found a small painting of a coastline for the hallway because Matthias said it reminded him of a trip we'd taken.

I'd built a life there, one careful choice at a time.

I parked in the underground garage and took the elevator up. My key still worked. I pushed open the door.

The living room was warm. Sunlight came through the windows I'd dressed. The air smelled like coffee.

Scarlet Boyd was sitting on the sofa.

She was wearing my robe. The silk one I'd left hanging in the bathroom closet. Her hair was damp. There was a coffee cup in her hand—one of the mugs I'd bought, the blue one with the chipped handle that Matthias always used.

She looked up when I walked in. She didn't startle. She didn't move.

She smiled.

"Talia," she said softly. "I didn't expect you this early."

I stood in the doorway with my keys still in my hand. I looked at her. I looked at the robe. I looked at the coffee cup.

I didn't say anything.

Scarlet set the cup down on the table—no coaster, I noticed—and tucked her legs underneath her. She looked comfortable. She looked like she belonged there.

"I know this is awkward," she said. Her voice was gentle. Reasonable. "I've been staying here for a few weeks now. Matthias knows. It's… complicated."

I pressed my thumb against the inside of my wrist.

"Complicated," I repeated.

She nodded. "We didn't mean for it to happen like this. But sometimes things just… unfold in ways you can't control."

I looked past her, toward the hallway. Toward the bedroom. The door was half-open. I could see the edge of the bed. The sheets were rumpled.

"Where is he?" I asked.

Scarlet tilted her head. "He left early. Meeting, I think. He said he'd be back this afternoon."

She said it so easily. Like it was normal. Like she had every right to know his schedule, to be here when he left, to drink coffee in my apartment wearing my robe.

I took a breath. It hurt.

"You need to leave," I said.

Scarlet's smile didn't fade. If anything, it softened. She stood slowly, one hand resting on the arm of the sofa for balance. Then she placed her other hand on her stomach. Deliberately. Gently.

She held it there.

"I understand this is hard for you," she said quietly. "But I think you should know. I'm pregnant."

The room went very still.

Scarlet's eyes were on mine. Steady. Unblinking.

"It's Matthias's," she said.

She held my gaze for one second. Two. Three.

I didn't move. I didn't speak. I just stood there with my keys cutting into my palm and my thumb pressed so hard against my wrist I knew it would leave a mark.

Scarlet let the silence stretch. Then she picked up her coffee cup and took a slow sip.

"I didn't want you to find out like this," she said. "But I think it's better that you know now. Before things go any further."

I looked at her hand on her stomach. I looked at the robe. I looked at the coffee cup.

Then I looked at her face.

And I saw it. Just for a second. The flicker of something behind the softness. The edge of a smile that wasn't gentle at all.

She was enjoying this.

I took one step back. Then another.

"Get out," I said.

My voice didn't shake. I was surprised by that.

Scarlet set the cup down again. She didn't move toward the door.

"Talia—"

"Get out," I said again. "Now."

She looked at me for a long moment. Then she sighed, soft and sad, like I was the one being unreasonable.

"All right," she said quietly. "I'll go. But you should talk to Matthias. Really talk to him. I think you'll find he's been trying to figure out how to tell you for a while now."

She walked past me toward the hallway. I didn't move. I heard the bedroom door close. I heard drawers opening. I heard the rustle of fabric.

Five minutes later, she came back out fully dressed. She paused by the door.

"For what it's worth," she said, "I'm sorry."

She wasn't.

I watched her leave. I heard the door click shut. I stood there in the center of the living room—my living room, the one I'd furnished and arranged and imagined a future in—and I looked at the coffee cup she'd left on the table.

No coaster. A ring of moisture on the wood.

I walked over. I picked up the cup. I carried it to the kitchen and set it in the sink.

Then I took off my engagement ring and placed it on the counter.

I didn't cry. I didn't call Matthias. I didn't fall apart.

I just stood there, thumb against my wrist, and finished making my decision.