Chapter 1

The day I found out I was pregnant, my husband found out he was sterile.

He smoked an entire pack of cigarettes on the balcony.

When he finally walked back into the bedroom, he looked at me, deadpan, and asked, "Who's the father?"

"It's yours, Sean! Of course it's yours!" I pleaded.

Sean didn't say another word.

But I saw the fury and complete distrust burning in his eyes.

After that day, he still drove me to work. He still went with me to my prenatal checkups.

But every single time we came home from the clinic, he would ask, "When are you going to schedule the abortion?"

I told him a thousand times that the baby was his.

He would only shake his head, wrap his arms around me in a helpless hug, and say:

"Chloe, I can pretend none of this ever happened. Just get rid of the baby, and we can go back to how we were."

Until the tenth week, when I suddenly started bleeding heavily.

By the time he rushed to the hospital, I had just been wheeled out of the operating room.

The nurse told him we lost the baby.

He stood by my hospital bed, his face completely pale.

I thought he would finally believe me now.

Instead, he turned to the doctor and asked, "Can we still do a paternity test on the tissue after a miscarriage?"

I slipped off my wedding ring and let out a cold laugh.

"Once the results are out, mail me the divorce papers."

As for who the father was? To me, it didn't matter anymore.