Chapter 7: Not Because of Him

I told Trenton I had a migraine.

He walked me to the door of the steakhouse and kissed my temple.

"Text me when you're home," he said. "Don't wait up. We'll be here a while."

I walked half a block and called Miles.

He answered on the first ring.

"I'm outside the restaurant," he said.

I stopped on the sidewalk.

"How?"

"I didn't like the guest list."

I looked down the street.

A black car sat at the curb with its hazards blinking.

The man leaning on it had his hands in his coat pockets.

I got in the passenger side and shut the door.

He started the engine and did not say anything.

I held my hands between my knees and told myself to breathe.

"She knows," I said finally. "Krista knows about the baby."

"How?"

"She saw my vitamins." I laughed, and it came out wrong.

"She says she's going to announce it live on Saturday. She thinks it will be beautiful."

Miles's hands tightened on the wheel.

"I can have her platform pulled," he said. "The creator grant has a morality clause."

"No."

"Ms. Marchbanks."

"Not yet," I said. "If I take it away now, she'll know something is wrong."

He drove in silence along the lake.

The water was black on one side and the city lit up on the other.

At the north end of the drive he pulled into an empty lot and shut off the engine.

The lake wind pushed at the car.

I looked at the dashboard, at the little glow of the clock, and I realized I was shaking all over.

"I smiled at them for two hours," I said.

"I let him put his arm around me. He was so sure of me, Miles."

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