I’m not calm. I’m the opposite of calm. But Olivia… she’s just standing there, wrists out, letting them pat her down and cuff her like she’s already given up.
“Olivia,” I beg, “look at me.”
She doesn’t.
“Olivia, please.”
The agent finishes with the cuffs. They look obscene on her wrists. Too big, too heavy for someone who saves lives instead of taking them.
They belong on me, not her.
“This is my fault,” I tell her. “All of it. Let me fix it.”
She still won’t look at me. “You can’t fix this, Stefan. You can’t fix something that was broken from the start.”
“The baby—”
“The baby will be fine,” she murmurs. “I’m sure your lawyers will work out visitation. Isn’t that what contracts are for?”
I hate the voice that’s coming out of her. It’s empty and cold. Like we’re already done, alr
