penthouse, the stock shares, or even basic dignity.
But that version of me had died with the divorce decree.
I adjusted the pale pink blanket around my daughter.
“You should get back to your fiancée, Adrian.”
“Emma…” His voice dropped lower, strained now. “Tell me that child isn’t mine.”
I turned toward the rain-covered skyline outside the window. New York looked gray, wet, and strangely beautiful.
“You signed everything without reading it, Adrian. You always hated details.”
Thirty minutes later, the door to my hospital room burst open.
Adrian stormed
