Ethan had had enough.
He stormed into the room Lucy had made hers, tossing her designer heels off the bed and slamming the door shut.
She was painting her nails, humming. "You've lost your mind," he said.
Lucy looked up slowly. "Relax, sweetheart. This kind of stress isn't good for me—or the baby."
"If there's a baby," Ethan snapped. "And if it's even mine."
She chuckled. "You've seen the tests. What more do you want?"
"A time machine," he spat. "To undo whatever night you're pretending happened."
Lucy stood up, sauntering toward him. "You don't need to love me. You don't even need to like me. Just take care of me. Give me what you gave Mara, and we'll both be at peace."
"You're nothing like Mara."
She leaned in closer. "Exactly. I'm smarter."
He took a step back, disgusted. "You think this makes you powerful? It makes you pathetic. Thinking you could trap me in your fantasy and destroyed my family."
