Two weeks after the divorce, I was finally settling into my new apartment and a new routine. I'd thrown mysel into work, taking on more projects than was strictly sensible, staying at the studio until late every night. Victoria had started giving me concerned looks, but she knew me well enough not to push. Lucas and I hadn't spoken since that final text exchange the night of our divorce. I'd seen his name in the business section of the newspaper-Bailey Enterprises acquiring a tech startup, expanding into new markets stock prices climbing under his leadership. He was thriving professionally, at least. I told myself I was glad for him. That this was what we both wanted-freedom to pursue our separate paths without the complications of a marriage neither of us had chosen. But on a rainy Saturday afternoon, as I was unpacking the last of my boxes, my stomach lurched suddenly, a wave of nausea washing over me so intensely that I barely made it to the bathroom in time. I knelt on the col tile floor, retching miserably until there was nothing left. Shakily, I rinsed my mouth and splashed cold water on my face, assuming I'd caught some kind of stomach bug. It was only as I straightened and caught sight of myself in the mirror-pale, with dark circles under my eyes-that another possibility occurred to me. When was my last period? I counted back mentally, then counted again, a cold knot of realization forming in my stomach. Six weeks. It had been six weeks. "No," I whispered to my reflection. "It's not possible." But even as I said the words, I knew they weren't true. Of course it was possible. Lucas and I had been caugh up in the moment, in the emotions of what we believed would be our last night together. Protection had beer the last thing on either of our minds. I sank down onto the edge of the bathtub, my mind racing. It could still be stress, I reasoned. The divorce, the move, the overwork-any of those could throw off my cycle. But the nausea... and the fatigue I'd been attributing to emotional exhaustion... and the tenderness in my breasts that I'd barely registered until this moment.... "Oh God," I murmured, burying my face in my hands. "Not now. Not like this." I needed to know for sure. Grabbing my purse and keys, I hurried out to the nearest pharmacy, purchasing three different pregnancy tests and ignoring the knowing look from the cashier. Back in my apartment, I followed the instructions with trembling hands, then sat on the edge of the bathtub again, waiting the required three minutes while my entire future hung in the balance. When the timer on my phone chimed, I took a deep breath and looked down at the first test. Two pink lines. Unmistakable. The second test showed a clear plus sign. The third, digital test spelled it out in no uncertain terms: "Pregnant." I stared at the tests lined up on the bathroom counter, my mind struggling to process the reality they represented. I was pregnant. With Lucas's child. After we'd signed divorce papers. After we'd agreed to go ou separate ways. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. I slid down to sit on the bathroom floor, my back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub, and wrapped my arms around my still-flat stomach. Inside me grew a new life-a combination of Lucas and myself, created o a night when barriers had fallen and truth had finally been spoken. But what now? What did this mean for the careful separation we'd negotiated, for the new lives we were tryin to build apart from each other? And most importantly: should I tell Lucas? The question echoed in my mind as I sat there on the cold tile floor, surrounded by the evidence of a future l' never anticipated. 'Victoria, I need to talk to you," I said the next morning, closing her office door behind me. "It's important." She looked up from her computer, eyebrows raised at my serious tone. "What's up?" took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant." Victoria's coffee mug froze halfway to her lips. "You're what?" 'Pregnant. About six weeks along." I sank into the chair across from her desk. "It's Lucas's." 'Holy shit," she breathed, setting her mug down with a thunk. "From...?" 'The night before the divorce," I confirmed. "We had a... moment of weakness." Victoria leaned back in her chair, studying me. "Does he know?" 'No." I twisted my hands in my lap. "And I'm not sure he should." 'Autumn..." Victoria's voice held a note of warning. 'Hear me out," I said quickly. "We just finalized our divorce. He's finally free to live the life he's always wanted To be with who he wants to be with." I couldn't bring myself to say Phoebe's name. "How is it fair to tie him down again with a child he never planned for?" 'It's his child too," Victoria pointed out gently. "Don't you think he has a right to know?" The question cut straight to the heart of my dilemma. Of course Lucas had a right to know about his child. But knowing Lucas-his sense of duty, his family values-I also knew exactly what would happen if I told him "He'd want to get back together," I said quietly. "Not because he loves me, but because it's the 'right thing to do. He'd try to make it work for the baby's sake." 7/2 Chapter 19-nexpected Pregnancy Victoria studied me, her expression softening. "And that's not what you want?" "I want..." I struggled to articulate the complicated tangle of emotions inside me. "I want him to be with me because he chooses me. Because he loves me. Not because I'm carrying his child and he feels obligated." "You still love him," Victoria observed, not a question but a statement. I didn't deny it. What was the point? "That night, he told me he loved me. That he had feelings for me he hadn' recognized until it was too late. And for a moment, I believed him." "But?" "But he spent our entire marriage in love with someone else, Vic. You can't just flip a switch on feelings like that." I shook my head. "What if he convinced himself he had feelings for me because it was easier than goin through with the divorce? What if it was just the heat of the moment?" "Or what if he meant it?" Victoria challenged. "What if he really had fallen for you, and you're throwing away a chance at happiness because you're scared?" Her words hit uncomfortably close to home. Was I running away? Protecting myself from potential hurt by nc giving Lucas a chance to prove his feelings were genuine? "I need time," I said finally. "Time to think, to figure out what I want, to decide what's best for this baby. I can't make that decision with Lucas hovering over me, trying to do the right thing." Victoria sighed. "Okay. So what's your plan?" "I'm not sure yet," I admitted. "But I know I can't stay in Northbrook right now. It's too small, too easy to run into him. And once I start showing..." "You're leaving?" Victoria's eyebrows shot up. "Where would you go?" "I have contacts in Paris from design school. I could stay there for a while, figure things out." The idea, which had been forming subconsciously since those positive pregnancy tests, suddenly crystallized into a plan. "I could take a sabbatical from the studio, do some freelance work remotely." Victoria was quiet for a long moment. "If that's what you need, I'll support you. The studio will be fine-we car tell clients you're pursuing international design influences or something suitably vague." Relief washed through me at her understanding. "Thank you." "But Autumn?" She leaned forward, her expression serious. "Don't wait too long to tell him. The longer you keep this secret, the harder it will be for both of you when the truth comes out." I nodded, though uncertainty still churned inside me. "I won't. I just need some space to think clearly. Away from Northbrook, away from Lucas, away from all the complications." That evening, alone in my apartment, I placed a hand over my still-flat abdomen, trying to wrap my mind around the reality of the life growing within me. Lucas's child. Our child. A tangible result of the one night when we'd been completely honest with each other, when the careful walls between us had finally fallen. 'It's just you and me for now, little one," I whispered. "We'll figure this out together." Whether that meant eventually telling Lucas about his child or raising this baby on my own, I wasn't yet sure. But I knew one thing with absolute certainty-this child, unexpected as it was, had already become precious to me. The one true gift from a marriage that had begun as a business arrangement but had somehow, against all odds, given me something of lasting value. Whatever happened next, I would protect this child with everything I had. Even if that meant protecting it from the complicated feelings between its parents.