Three Months Pregnant, I Left With His Twins Chapter 07

Three Months Pregnant, I Left With His Twins Chapter 07

“You won’t believe this. Elodie’s been exposed.”

Maeve’s voice on the phone carried a restrained satisfaction.

“What do you mean?”

“One of Nate’s friends, Colin Reed, pulled some old chat records from Elodie’s previous phone.”

“She was talking to a woman named Rowena Keene around the end of last year, right after you found out you were pregnant.”

“What did she say?”

Maeve read it to me.

Elodie wrote:

“Margaret has everything arranged. I’ll take it slow with Nate. Can’t rush it.”

The other woman asked:

“What about Sloane?”

Elodie wrote:

“Her being pregnant is perfect. Margaret will find a way to make her give up the baby.”

“With her background, she couldn’t afford to raise it anyway.”

The other woman wrote:

“You’re ruthless.”

Elodie replied with a smiling emoji.

“I’ve waited three years. I’m not about to watch it all slip away.”

Waited three years.

Nate and I had been together for three years and two months.

“Colin showed the screenshots to Nate in person.”

Maeve continued.

“Nate apparently stared at them for a long time, then called Elodie over to talk.”

“She moved out of that Westbury flat the same day.”

Moved out.

The words felt distant.

Whether she moved out or not had nothing to do with me anymore.

“One more thing.”

“Vivian pulling out of those projects hit harder than expected.”

“Richard Westbury tried to find replacement investors and couldn’t close any deals.”

“I had nothing to do with Vivian’s decision.”

“I know you didn’t. But the effect is obvious.”

“Margaret’s been a lot quieter lately. I heard she cried for days and said she regrets driving you away.”

Regrets.

People only remember regret when there’s no way back.

“Maeve, you don’t need to tell me these things anymore.”

“You don’t want to know?”

“I’ve started a new life.”

“Alright.”

She paused, then changed her tone.

“So, do you have enough clothes? Has it snowed in Vancouver yet?”

“It has.”

“Are you cold?”

“I’m okay.”

She hummed, gave me a few more reminders, then hung up.

That was Maeve.

She always asked about the little things. She cared about me.

That afternoon I went out and bought a small rotisserie chicken.

On the way back, the woman watering flowers on the neighboring balcony waved again.

“You live alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Fiona Blake. Knock on my door if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

It wasn’t a big deal.

But in a strange city, someone offering that meant everything.

That night Nate sent another email.

Short.

“Sloane, I know about Elodie.”

“I was wrong.”

“I don’t know where you are, but if you tell me, I’ll come to you. I’ll apologize to your face.”

An in-person apology.

I sat in front of the screen for a long time staring at that email.

He knew he was wrong.

He wanted to apologize.

Knowing him for three years, I knew this was the biggest gesture he could offer.

But what came after the apology?

Margaret would still be Margaret.

Those few seconds of hesitation would still have happened.

If Elodie was gone, who would be next?

Would he still give my number out?

Still tell me to calm down first?

Still sigh when I broke up with him and then book first-class tickets for another woman?

I closed the email.

It wasn’t out of spite.

I was sitting in this rented apartment in a strange city.

It was snowing outside.

The two babies in my belly were growing every day.

I suddenly realized I didn’t need his apology anymore.

The things I needed, he couldn’t give.

The things he could give, I no longer wanted.

It was that simple.

I made a pot of black tea, held the cup, and watched the snow from the window.

My phone lit up.

A message from Vivian.

“Sloane, I’m flying over next week. What do you want to eat?”

I replied:

“Your braised short ribs.”

She answered with one word.

“Good.”