While I Lost Our Baby, He Chose Her

The sun rose gray over the city.

The ivory dress still hung from the bedroom door. The fifty gold-inked cards still sat on the kitchen counter. I didn't tear them up. I didn't call the venue to cancel. Not yet.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. I brushed my hair and tied it back. I applied concealer under my eyes to hide the dark hollows, then swiped on a layer of red lipstick. I put on my long black wool coat and wrapped a scarf tight around my neck.

Maverick was in the kitchen, scrolling on his phone by the coffee maker. He wore his charcoal suit.

"I have to run an errand for tonight," I said evenly. "Pick up some extra ribbon for the favors."

He barely looked up from his screen. "Fine. Make it quick. My mother wants you at her apartment by two to help her dress."

"Sure," I said.

I waited downstairs in the lobby. Five minutes later, Maverick stepped out into the crisp air. He raised his hand and hailed a yellow cab.

I stepped onto the curb, flagged the next taxi, and slid into the back.

"Follow that cab," I told the driver.

We drove downtown in stop-and-go traffic. My hands rested flat on my lap. They were completely steady now. The panic from the night before had frozen into a cold, hard lump behind my ribs.

The cab pulled over near Fifth Avenue. Maverick got out, buttoned his suit jacket, and walked briskly down the sidewalk.

I paid the driver and stepped out into the biting wind.

I kept thirty feet behind him, pulling my collar up. He didn't look back once. He never looked back. He was a man who only saw what was directly in front of him.

He stopped in front of a luxury jewelry boutique.

A woman was already waiting near the polished brass doors. Violeta Fisher. She wore a cream cashmere sweater and a pleated skirt, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. When she saw him, her entire face brightened. She took a step toward him, and he smiled.

It was a soft, open smile. A smile I hadn’t seen on his face in four years.

They walked inside together.

I moved close to the tall glass window. The boutique was warm and bright, filled with velvet display cases and sparkling glass. I stood on the sidewalk, half-hidden behind a decorative stone pillar.

Maverick pointed to something in a velvet tray. The sales associate lifted out a diamond bracelet. Platinum and stones

, sparkling under the recessed lighting.

Violeta gasped softly. She held out her slender wrist.

Maverick didn't just hand it to her. He reached out and took her wrist in his hand. His touch was slow. Tender. He fastened the clasp with careful fingers, his eyes focused completely on her skin. When he finished, he didn't let go right away. Instead, he lifted his other hand and gently tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear.

Violeta tilted her head. She looked up at him through her lashes and smiled.

It was not a shy smile. It was the calm, victorious smile of a woman who knew she had won.

Something inside my chest snapped clean in half.

I turned the corner and pushed through the heavy glass door.

The brass bell gave a soft chime. The store smelled of expensive perfume and leather.

"Maverick."

My voice was not loud, but it cut through the quiet room like a knife.

Maverick froze. His hand dropped from Violeta's hair. He turned around, his eyes widening in shock for a fraction of a second before hardening into cold stone.

Violeta took a half-step back, lowering her head like a startled bird. But her fingers stayed rested right on the new bracelet.

"Leanna?" Maverick’s voice was sharp. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I walked toward the glass counter. My boots clicked against the marble floor. My voice shook, but every word came out clear.

"Our engagement party is tonight," I said, looking straight at him. "Fifty people are coming. And you are here, buying diamond bracelets for your associate."

The sales associate immediately backed away, staring at the floor.

Maverick didn't flinch. He didn't blush. He took a step toward me, his jaw clenched tight, crowding my space.

"Lower your voice," he snapped in a low hiss. "Did you follow me? Are you spying on me now?"

"Answer the question, Maverick."

"I don't have to answer to your delusions," he said, sneering. He didn't care that the staff was watching. His eyes were full of pure contempt. "Violeta hit a major publication milestone yesterday. I bought her a congratulatory gift from our departmental research fund. It is none of your business."

"You touched her hair," I said.

"You are insane," he said. He shook his head, looking disgusted. "God, you are so pathetic, Leanna. You're insecure. You're suffocating. You have no career, no ambition of your own, so you spend your whole day projecting your petty frustrations onto everyone around you."

Every word hit like a slap.

Behind his shoulder, Violeta glanced at me. Her lips curved up into a tiny, cruel smirk. She lightly stroked the diamonds around her wrist.

Maverick pointed a finger at the door. "Go home. Clean yourself up. If you ruin tonight with your childish drama, we are done. Do you hear me?"

I looked at him. I looked at the man I had cooked for, cared for, and buried my own life for.

I didn't yell. I didn't cry.

"I hear you," I said softly.

I turned around and walked out into the street.

The cold wind hit my face. My legs felt hollow, like they belonged to someone else, but they carried me forward, step by step, away from him.