Chapter 4

That evening, I went to the upscale restaurant Liam had booked for our "make-up dinner."

The maître d' looked at his list. "I'm sorry, ma'am. There is no reservation under O'Malley or Thompson."

He must have canceled it.

I ate alone at the bar.

Liam arrived an hour late, his face flushed with anger. He found me as I was paying my bill.

"I've been calling you! Why are you ignoring my calls? What kind of game are you playing, Ava?" he hissed, grabbing my arm.

"Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean I have to cater to your every whim!"

I looked down at my stomach, flat and empty, and placed a hand over my womb.

"You won't have to anymore," I said quietly.

His face hardened. "Fine. You want to be difficult? The wedding is off. I'm canceling it."

"Go ahead," I replied.

The next morning, a sleep-deprived and frantic Liam showed up at my hotel. He'd somehow found out where I was staying.

He brought an assortment of expensive pastries. He tried to apologize, stumbling over his words.

Then, he got to the real reason he was there.

He sheepishly pulled out a set of architectural blueprints. Chloe's name was in the title block.

"It's for the big competition," he mumbled. "The data for the structural integrity... it's all wrong. She can't figure it out."

I saw it then. This was why he was being "nice." He needed me.

"I'll fix it," I said. "Consider it payment for the breakfast."

He looked relieved. I took the files and sent him the corrected versions two hours later. The complex flaws were simple for me to solve.

An hour after that, a notification popped up on my phone. A wire transfer from his company account.

$20,000.

The memo line read: "Prenatal Support."

He called a minute later, gushing. "You're a lifesaver, Ava! This is incredible. This will secure Chloe the Young Architect of the Year award for sure! You're the best."

He didn't say I was the best architect. He said I was the best for helping Chloe.