Page 31 of Living Hell

“I was going to show you the number I had for you and see if it was correct. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

I reached for the phone. “I still remember the number. Let me see.”

A request for a password came up so I handed it to Tyler.

He tapped at the phone and when he gave it back, my contact information was on the screen. Almost everything was right except for one thing.

“That should be a seven . . . not a two.”

Taking his phone, he stared at it for a moment before he whispered, “All that time I was calling a wrong number. But the guy said you weren’t there. Iona isn’t the most common name. What were the chances?”

Something didn’t feel right but instead of thinking Tyler was messing with me, I believed him. I may not have been in Tyler’s life for eleven years, but I knew when Tyler was confused. And right now the man was baffled.

If that was true, then he didn’t know the truth about what had happened to me. Our worlds changed because of one missed number. Maybe we’d still be together or maybe we would have broken up because long-distance relationships rarely work. But at least it would have been on our terms.

“But I texted you and called you. It’s not like your number had changed,” I said. He refused to meet my eye. “Tyler?”

He gave an exaggerated nod. “It did, actually.”

I shook my head and reached for the phone and placed it on the counter.

“Fine. This was a misunderstanding that really fucked everything up.”

“You could say that again.”

“No, it did more than you know. I need to tell you something. And I understand if you want to break this fake engagement agreement after I explain it to you,” I said and took a deep breath to gather courage.

“You gave me the wrong number? Did you do this on purpose?”

“No, no. That’s not it. It’s not about the number. I mean, it’s the reason I never told you. Technically, I did tell you, but you never got the message.”

He stood, towering over me with his big man body. The desire to reach for him and wrap my arms around his middle was potent. I wanted to bury my face in his chest because seeing the look in his eyes when I let it out would be difficult.

“So then, what is it?”

“You remember the night . . . on the edge of town, a few months before I left. In the grass by the stream in May?”

He rolled his eyes. “There were lots of nights we hung out there. You’ll have to be more specific—”

I didn’t say anything. I waited for the realization to hit him, and when it did, his cheeks reddened and he nodded. “Oh, that night. After the dance.”

Yeah, the night you took my virginity.The night I confessed my love to him. The night he said he would never let me go.

“I got pregnant that night.”

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