At our college reunion, I somehow ended up in bed with Ethan Cole, the one guy I was pretty sure hated my guts. By the time I realized I was pregnant, I was 28 weeks. Too late for the easy way out. So I found him. "We need to get married." He shoved me away, his face a mask of pure disgust. "Who the hell are you?" I threw the ultrasound printout at his chest. "I'm nobody to you," I sneered. "But the kid in my uterus knows you pretty well." "You personally shot him in there." 1 Seven months after I’d slept with Ethan Cole, I found out I was pregnant. At that stage, in this state, my options were zero. So I took the OB-GYN report and went to find him. I didn't have his number. I just had his address—a glass tower in the city—and I camped out in the lobby for two solid weeks before I finally caught him walking out. I stepped in front of him. "I'm pregnant." His face, which had already soured at the sight of me, turned cold. "You're pregnant. What does that have to do with me?" "It's yours." He didn't even look at me, just scrolled through his phone. "So get an abortion. I'm not having a kid with you." He clearly didn't believe a word I said. I shook my head. "Can't. I'm too far along." "Ethan, we're getting married." That wasn't a request. It was a notification. And it finally pissed him off. He looked up, his eyes locking on me. He took a step, deliberately slamming his shoulder into mine as he walked past. I stumbled, catching my balance on a pillar. He looked back, his gaze dripping with contempt. "You want to marry me? Did you forget to put your face on this morning?" "I've seen girls try to gold-dig, but you're the first one to show up with the whole construction-grade shovel." "Mia," he said, "I'm not even sure we're acquaintances." I was done playing. I pulled the lab report from my bag and threw it at him. "You're right, we're not. But this kid..." I paused, letting the wind from the revolving door whip my hair. "He knows you. You put him here." He froze. He actually picked up the paper and read it, confirming I wasn't lying. His eyes drifted down to the obvious bump under my loose dress, and his jaw clenched. "Twenty-eight weeks... seven months... So that night in my hotel room. The one who... fought me... that was you?" 2 "That night" was our five-year high school reunion. Halfway through, Chloe Anderson, our former prom queen, passed out wedding invitations. When everyone saw the groom's name, the room exploded. The most popular girl in school was marrying Ryan Miller, the quiet, painfully shy class president. Everyone was ribbing Ryan, saying they never saw it coming. The two of them just stood there, glowing. The only person not celebrating was Ethan Cole, drinking himself into a stupor in the corner. I knew he’d been in love with Chloe for years. He’d transferred from a private prep school to our public high school just to be in the same class as her. In school, I was his deskmate. He was constantly using me as his go-between, making me pass her his stupid, sappy notes. I watched him see Chloe and Ryan kissing in the parking lot after graduation. Now, at the reunion, I watched him slam an entire bottle of white wine. He caught me looking and gave me a bitter, drunken smirk. I just went back to my food. The sweet-and-sour ribs were amazing. Suddenly, Chloe raised her glass. "You know, I actually have Mia to thank for me and Ryan getting together!" I froze. "She was our little secret cupid! She was passing Ryan's notes to me all senior year!" "I found out he liked me, and I liked him... and when I finally told him, he was so confused! He said he'd never written me a single note!" "I thought about it, and the handwriting was different... Ryan's not the type for all that poetry..." She beamed at me, holding Ryan's arm. "Mia, you knew we liked each other, didn't you? You're the one who brought us together! You have to be my maid of honor!" CRASH. A glass shattered. I didn't have to look. It was Ethan. The table went quiet. Ethan just hissed, "Fucking... disgusting." Everyone assumed he was just being his usual germaphobe self about the broken glass. Only I knew he was talking about me. I just calmly wiped my mouth with a napkin. Someone tried to break the tension. "Easy, man, it's just a glass. Don't let it ruin the party." "Yeah, Ethan, you're the only one not smiling. Seeing Chloe and Ryan so happy... does it make you want to settle down?" "Speaking of, you and your old deskmate Mia were pretty tight. I remember you sat right next to her on day one. You two ever...?" Ethan, who had been silent, finally spoke. His voice was laced with venom. "Shut up. I'd never hook up with a man-hater." 3 My hand paused. I looked at him. And just like that, the spotlight was on me. "Oh yeah, I remember! Mia had that shaved head! I thought she was a new guy." "Ethan, was that it? You thought she was a dude, so you sat next to her?" "Hah! No way. Even Ethan has standards. He's not going for... that. He was always after Chloe." "But seriously, Ethan, you're a total germaphobe. How did you stand sitting next to her? She always smelled like... like garbage." ...I stopped breathing. They didn't know. How could they? They didn't know I lived in a single-wide trailer by the dump. That my grandpa, my only family, was disabled and collected cans to pay our bills. That the money we made was barely enough for food, let alone utilities. I couldn't have long hair like the other girls, because we couldn't spare the water to wash it. I had two shirts for school—hand-me-downs, identical—so they thought I never changed. And yes, I smelled. Because our trailer was next to a landfill. My entire high school trauma, all the things I'd buried, served up as a party joke. Ethan slammed his hand on the table. "I said, shut your fucking mouths." I couldn't stay. I got up and left. I went straight to the staff locker room, showered, and changed into my uniform. My shift started at 11 PM. After graduation, I'd gotten a job at this hotel. I was now the front-desk manager. This hotel. Ethan's father owned it. He was, technically, my boss. He came in all the time. He never once looked at me. I was processing the night's reports, but my hands were shaking. I thought about Ethan's "man-hater" comment. I thought about them all laughing. I was so angry. I threw the report down, went to the front desk, and checked the reservation for the Presidential Suite. Of course. Ethan Cole. Too drunk to drive home. I went to the staff elevator, rode it to the top floor, and used my manager's master key. I wasn't thinking straight. I just wanted to yell at him. Maybe slap him while he was passed out. The door clicked open. A water bottle flew at my head. I dodged. "Mia? You've got a lot of fucking nerve." I picked up the bottle, twisted the cap, and took a drink. "Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" He was drunk, and he'd trashed the room. He stormed over and grabbed me, slamming me against the door. He was yelling, calling me every name in the book. I was there for a fight, so I gave him one. I started yelling back. We were screaming at each other, and then he pushed me, and I pushed him back. He was a high school jock, but I'd spent my life fighting. I grabbed his hair. He ripped my shirt. I bit him. He bit me back. He was bleeding. He was breathing hard. He grabbed my chin, and he kissed me. ...It was a long, brutal night. 4 I was gone before he woke up. I'd left marks. Scratches. Bite marks. I was terrified he'd press charges, so I ran. I checked the security footage for that hallway. The camera was out. "Under Maintenance." I breathed a sigh of relief. And then I quit. I found a new job. I was busy. I never got morning sickness. The tiny bit of weight I gained, I figured was stress. Until my first physical in a year. 28 weeks. I told Ethan the whole story, leaving out the parts that made me look bad. "You kissed me first," I insisted. "I tried to fight, but you... you have that weird kink, I guess. The harder I fought, the more excited you got. You... you really hurt me." His face was pale. "I was blackout drunk... And who the hell let you in my room?" "Guest complaint. Trashing the room. I'm the manager." "It's my father's hotel! I can trash it if I want to!" I let a tear roll down my cheek. "But I'm not yours to trash, Ethan." "Mia, don't you...! Shut up!" He raked his hands through his hair, furious. "Get rid of it. I'll pay for everything." "I told you, I can't." "I am not marrying you." "Why not?" A sharp, female voice cut through the tension. A woman in a Chanel suit was walking toward us, her face grim. Ethan's mom. She walked right past her son and put a protective arm around me. "He will marry you." Ethan looked terrified. "Mom, I am not—" She slapped him. Hard. Across the face. "You will not speak, you little bastard." He stared at me with pure hatred, then turned and stormed off. His mother's face instantly softened as she turned to me. "Don't you worry, dear. I'm here. He'll marry you. And you are definitely having this baby." 5 Ethan's mom took me for a new ultrasound, had a blood test done to confirm the paternal match, and then moved me into a luxury condo. I learned the truth. The Cole family patriarch, Ethan's grandfather, was dying. And he was holding the entire $8 billion family company hostage. He was an old-school tyrant. He wanted a blood heir. His will stated that the first of his grandchildren to produce a "legitimate heir" would get the controlling shares. If none did by the time he died, it all went to charity. It was a family comedy of errors. The eldest son was sterile. The second son was gay. The third son... was now a daughter. That left Ethan. The only one who could do the job, and he was still mooning over his high school crush. I wasn't a problem. I was the solution. Two months later, I gave birth. I was moved to a $100,000-a-month postpartum recovery center. Ethan was forced to sign the marriage certificate. It was all too easy. So easy, it made me nervous. I thought he'd fight harder. I thought, at the very least, he'd hate the baby. But he didn't. He came to the center every day. Not for me. For the baby. He was... a natural. He held him. He changed him. He learned how to bathe him from the nurses. Of course he did. This baby had just bought him a multi-billion dollar company. He still hated me. I could feel it. I didn't care. I had everything I wanted... except love. And love doesn't pay the bills.
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