The car slid through the wet streets of London while I struggled to keep my eyes on the road, but it was useless.
Her face came to my mind like an impatient ghost—wide brown eyes, her mouth slightly open in shock, and the apron slightly stretched over the curve of her belly. It was impossible to forget. And even more impossible to ignore.
I wasn't sure what I would do. There was no plan. Just urgency. A longing that started yesterday afternoon and grew through the night, keeping me awake. Even after Pedro tried to reassure me, even after the silence of the apartment wrapped around me as it always did, that image stayed stuck in my head.
She's pregnant.
And it could be mine, or it could just be a stupid theory in my head, since we only spent one night together. What right do I have to s
