Not Your Baby Mama

Jack got back late. One look at my half-empty room and his brows pulled tight. "Why's everything gone? Where are you going?"

Then he spotted the suitcase. Panic flickered.

I kept it casual. "We're getting married soon. I'm replacing stuff anyway, so I tossed it."

Just like that, he relaxed. "In a couple days, I'll bring the baby over. You two should start bonding early."

"Okay. But I'm not doing great. Let's get a nanny."

His face hardened. "He's still little. This is when he bonds with his mom. We hire a nanny, what if he doesn't get close to you? You know my parents already have an issue with you not having kids. I barely talked them into this. You need to try harder with him."

No room to argue. He'd already decided.

For Mary, he ignored how I was doing and shoved his affair baby on me.

How ridiculous.

"Maybe in a couple days," I said. "The wedding's coming up, I—"

"That's enough. I'll handle the wedding. You stay home and take care of the baby."

I got it. I wouldn't even need to show up. The kid was the leash.

Jack Ashford, you really covered all your bases.

I nodded. "Okay. Whatever you say."

He didn't question it. Loosening his tie, he said, "I'm doing this for you. Be good. We'll have a good life."

I said nothing and walked past him into the bedroom.

A good life? Not in this lifetime.

He moved to follow—then his phone rang.

Mary's sugary voice blasted on speaker. "Jack, come quick. The baby won't stop crying, won't drink milk. I don't know what to do!" Her sobs mixed with the baby wailing.

A soft laugh slipped out.

"I'm coming," Jack said, all gentle.

He glanced at me. "Stella, Mary's struggling. I'll check on her. Stay home. The baby might come over later. Be ready."

"Got it."

Couldn't wait to deliver the kid, huh?

He rushed out.

The door shut. A message from Mary popped up.

[Stella, you'll always lose to me. One call and he runs. You've lost your uterus and his love. Now you just play nanny and raise the baby.]

I screenshotted it, printed it, and slid it into the nightstand.

Jack came back fast, baby in his arms.

Six months old. Cute, innocent. Then I saw it—Mary's face, stamped all over him. My chest twisted. I thought of my own baby.

My hand went to my stomach. Pain ripped through.

Jack held him like glass, voice soft as he soothed him.

He looked up, waved me over. All I felt was disgust. I didn't move.

"Stella, come hold him."

"I don't know how."

My flat tone set him off. "Stella, what is this? Don't make this hard."

"Hard?" I let out a dry laugh. "Even at my worst, I wouldn't play mom to a side chick's kid. And a baby from your affair? Nothing to be proud of—just like his mother. Shameless."

He froze—then slapped me.

Half my face went numb.

"What are you even saying?"

I hit him back, hard. He almost lost his footing.

He clutched the baby, shielding him.

I let out a cold laugh. "Oh, now you're careful? You know exactly how this kid happened. And you want me to raise him? The kid you had with Mary? You really think you deserve that?"

Jack swayed, panic flickering.

I didn't stop. "Our baby was two months along. You killed him."