Lucien didn’t speak immediately.
Not when she stepped outside.
Not when she stopped in front of him.
He just looked at her.
Not at her stomach.
At her face.
“You were going to tell me,” he said finally.
It wasn’t an accusation.
It was a question he already knew the answer to.
She didn’t respond.
The air between them felt different now.
Thicker.
“I didn’t think it was mine at first,” he continued quietly.
Her head snapped up.
“What?”
He swallowed.
“Because I thought you would have told me immediately.”
That hurt more than anger would have.
“I was going to,” she said.
“When?”
She didn’t have an answer that sounded good.
He ran a hand through his hair — something he only did when he was overwhelmed.
“You were carrying this alone?” he asked.
She gave a small nod.
For th
