Luke didn't come home until late into the night.

He was drunk, and Leah was with him.

They stumbled through the door, arm in arm.

When he saw me waiting in the living room, he froze for a second.

"Why are you still up?" he asked.

My eyes went straight to Leah, clinging to his side.

I didn't say a word.

Luke finally seemed to realize how bad this looked.

He awkwardly pulled his arm away from her neck.

"It's just… Leah just got out," he stammered. "She can't go back to her mom's, and she has nowhere else to go, so I thought…"

Leah acted like I wasn't even there.

She swaggered over to the sofa and flopped down.

That sofa, the one Luke and I had spent weeks picking out for our new life together.

She propped her dirty shoes right on the cushions, then barked an order at Luke. "You're the one who brought me here, Luke! So where am I sleeping tonight?"

As she spoke, the alcohol seemed to hit her, and she leaned over the side of the sofa, gagging.

Luke immediately rushed to her side, patting her back and handing her a glass of water.

Without even looking back at me, he said, "Why don't you go on to bed? I've got this."

I stood there, frozen, for a moment.

Then I turned, walked back to our bedroom, and locked the door behind me.

When Luke came to the room later, he tried the handle and found it locked.

He ended up sleeping in the guest room next door.

He sent me a text, I guess trying to smooth things over.

"Chloe, what I had with her is in the past. Even if I wanted to marry her, my mom would never allow it. And we have the baby now. I'm obviously going to marry you. I have to be responsible for you. So don't overthink this. I'm just trying to help her out."

My eyes stayed fixed on that text message.

The words "my mom," "the baby," "responsible"… they burned.

Maybe Luke didn't realize it, but his own words betrayed what he was really thinking.

He'd be responsible for me, responsible for our baby, but there was no love for us.

I should have known this all along.

But I kept lying to myself, pretending he was still that same gentle, radiant boy who had lit up my entire youth.

The pregnancy made it hard to sleep.

I was always waking up in the middle of the night, feeling sick and uncomfortable.

I was lying flat on my back, trying to endure another wave of morning sickness, when I heard a rustling sound from the room next door.

I got out of bed, a knot of disbelief tightening in my stomach.

I crept to the guest room door and listened.

I could hear their voices inside.

It was Leah, her tone a playful, triumphant whisper. "What are you so scared of? Her being in the next room just makes it hotter, don't you think?"

Luke's voice was strained, trembling. "Leah, don't. I don't want to do the wrong thing…"

Leah scoffed. "Don't want to, or don't dare to? Stop pretending, Luke. I see right through you. You don't love Chloe. You still love me! So what's it gonna be? Marry her and be miserable for the rest of your life, or be with me?"

Luke was silent.

The ticking of the clock on the wall felt like a hammer beating against my heart.

Finally, he spoke, his voice full of a tortured, repressed pain. "But Chloe… she's pregnant with my child."

Leah just sneered. "A baby? Is that all? Just tell her to go to the clinic and get it taken care of."