Three Friends-With-Benefits Begged Me Back After My Pregnancy

I sat in the back seat. Neither of us said a word the whole ride.

My mom had mentioned that Adam had already built a solid position within our family's company.

That surprised me.

After all, when he dumped me, he'd been pretty adamant: "You're nothing but a spoiled princess with a pretty face. Don't let me see you again."

Now he was in a tailored suit, sharp and distant — a completely different person from the boy he'd been five years ago, when he was still on my sponsorship, a college freshman, clean-cut and naive as they come.

Adam lost both his parents young. His grandparents raised him on government assistance.

If my dad hadn't dragged me along to a charity event in his hometown when I was in eighth grade, our paths would never have crossed.

He stood out from the crowd — tall, straight-backed, with a tiny beauty mark at the corner of his eye.

My heart was pounding.

When I found out he was struggling financially but dreaming of Harvard, I decided to sponsor him.

At that point, I genuinely had no ulterior motives.

But then again, he was nineteen — young, energetic, and painfully innocent. Every time he saw me, his eyes would crinkle into a smile.

"Good morning!"

"Have you had breakfast? I packed extra — want to share?"

"You really need to stop drinking so much. It's bad for you."

That bright, earnest voice calling out to me every day — something snapped, and I kissed him.

Then, on impulse, I half-dragged him to a hotel, pushed him down, and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Adam's eyes welled up. He clenched his jaw and bit out, "Anna, if I'd known you were this kind of person, I never would've touched your money."

But his body was honest. He leaned in and deepened the kiss.

I'd always loved that beauty mark by his eye, and it was still magnetic. Noah had one in the exact same spot.

Couldn't be that much of a coincidence, right?

The silence in the car was getting awkward. I broke it with something random.

"You've changed a lot."

In the rearview mirror, his eyes flicked to me — cold, dismissive — and he scoffed.

"You haven't changed at all."

Then his gaze dropped to Noah, lingering on those features that looked so much like mine. His knuckles went white on the steering wheel.

"Even got yourself a kid. Impressive, Anna."

I could hear the edge in his voice.

Noah shrank into my arms, his soft little voice trembling. "Mommy, why is that man looking at me so mean?"

Maybe he disliked me, so he didn't like Noah either.

I smiled and smoothed it over. "He's not, sweetheart. That's just his face."

Adam stiffened. Coughed twice.

Noah whispered, "Good thing Mommy doesn't like him. Being with someone that scary would be miserable."

Before I could react, the brakes screeched and I threw my arms around Noah as we lurched forward.

Once the car steadied, I lit into Adam. "Adam, what the hell? You could've killed us!"

He shot Noah a wounded look.

Noah burrowed deeper into my arms.

I got it then. Adam had always been proud to a fault, and getting roasted by a five-year-old probably stung.

After all, he was the one who'd dumped me.

"You actually take a kid's words seriously? How childish."

I tapped Noah's head gently. "And you — don't talk to strangers like that. Got it?"

Noah pouted but nodded.

Meanwhile, Adam was staring at me with reddened eyes, looking exactly like he had the first time I'd pinned him down — hurt and indignant.

What now? What did I do this time?