Cortland
The sun scorches my neck as I pace the gravel driveway, kicking dust with each step. A week has passed since I banished Austin—seven days of hell.
Her calls and texts bombarded my phone initially. I ignored them, watching them dwindle to silence. The quiet cuts deeper.
I fled the banquet like a coward, leaving Carrington to clean up my mess. I couldn't breathe under the weight of her announcement.
A baby. My baby. My reaction devastated her, the situation complicated beyond measure. A treacherous part of my heart leaped at the idea of a mini Austin. I buried it quickly, drowning it in suspicion.
When I returned to the hotel, her belongings vanished. Empty hangers and a lingering whiff of perfume remained. I told myself it was for the best, even as my chest ached.
Work became
