Taylor sat in the large leather chair of his office, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The faint hum of the city outside his window blended with the echoes of his mother’s words to start preparing for a wedding.
Over and over again, the phrase looped in his head like a cruel melody, tugging at the fraying edges of his sanity.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply.
Marrying Sarah.
The very thought of it sent a cold shiver through him.
How had it come to this?
A child. His child.
At least that's what she claimed, though every part of him wanted to reject it. Not because it wasn't possible but because acknowledging it meant facing a responsibility he hadn't asked for.
But mostly, the image of Sarah's unwavering gaze was seared into his brain.
She'd stood before
