The Ex-Husband of Alice Langley

25

PARIS SWIFT-KELCE
I'm hunched over the toilet a little after six in the morning, my stomach heaving with relentless nausea. This time, I know exactly why. More like I'm not in denial of the reason why. Sometimes delulu isn't the solulu. The sour taste of bile lingers on my tongue, my throat burns, and I'm drenched in sweat. Eight weeks pregnant—or thereabouts. My first time, my first mistake. Way to go, Paris. Get pregnant the night you lose your virginity.

Liam's still clueless. I've been dodging his texts, making up lame excuses not to see him, telling myself I'll deal with it later. But 'later' is coming way too fast.

When the retching finally stops, I shakily get to my feet, the cold tile floor a small comfort under my bare feet. I lean over the sink, splashing water on my face, rinsing my mouth out. The mirror reflects someone who doesn't quite look like me—pale, worn-out, hair sticking in every direction. My hands tremble as I grab a washcloth, wiping off the sweat, trying to pull myself together.

With a deep sigh, I collapse onto my bed, pulling my knees to my chest. The weight of it all is pressing down on me, and even though I know I'm not alone—at least not physically—it sure feels that way. I want to talk to someone. Someone who gets it.

I grab my phone, hesitating for a second before pressing FaceTime. The screen rings for a few moments before Alice's face pops up, her usual warm smile greeting me.

"Hey, Paris!" Her voice is light, like it always is, and I can see she's got her phone propped up while she's cooking. The smell of something delicious must be filling her kitchen, and I almost laugh at how domestic she looks in her apron, spatula in hand.

"Hey, Ali," I manage to sigh, slumping deeper into the pillows.

"Whatcha doing up so early?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as she flips whatever's sizzling in the pan.

"I had a question for you. It's just... it's been nagging at me."

"Sure, lay it on me." She glances at the phone screen, sensing the seriousness in my tone.

I take a deep breath, staring at the ceiling, before finally asking, "What was it like when you found out you were pregnant with Arlo?"

There's a pause. She 100% wasn't expecting that. Alice finishes pouring more pancake batter into the pan before turning to give me her full attention, and I can see her thinking back.

"Terrifying," she finally admits, her voice softening. "Oh my god, Paris, I was scared out of my mind. I had no clue how Hunter would react, and my family—well, I knew it wouldn't be easy. I knew I wanted to keep the baby, but it was going to change everything. And those changes... they scared the hell out of me."

I nod, taking in her words. "That makes sense. But... everything worked out?"

She smiles, and there's a warmth in her eyes that I find comforting. "Yeah, it did. I had a lot of support from Hunter, from you guys. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you, honestly. You deserve a lot of credit, Paris."

I swallow, my throat tight. "Thanks, Ali. That means a lot."

"You're welcome," she says, then her brow furrows. "But why are you asking? You don't usually come to me for this kind of stuff."

I hesitate, my mind racing. How do I explain this? "Well... Mom's never really been the one I go to for these kinds of things. It's complicated."

Alice tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. "You keeping something from Mom?"

"Mom knows," I admit. "But it's... like I said, complicated."

Alice chuckles softly, the sound of her laughter lightening the tension just a little. "It's always complicated."