Page 98 of Steel Beauty

Her lips curve into a wry smile. “I don’t imagine she’s too happy with me for keeping you from Sundays with the family.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. Tina’s thrilled I’m seeing someone. Her exact words were, ‘as long as she’s not like Celeste.’”

Her smile falters. “Celeste is your ex––the one who posted the video?”

Now is my chance to lay it all out, no matter how messy or uncomfortable. If we’re going to have a shot at a future together, Charleston must know everything.

“Celeste Warrington. If you look her up online, you won’t see the video on her socials anymore, but it’s still out there. Nothing ever really disappears online.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not interested in watching some staged video she posted to rack up likes and comments.”

A small wave of relief washes over me, but I know this conversation isn’t over. “I’m glad to hear that, but there’s more to it, and I don’t want this hanging between us. I need to tell you exactly what happened so there’s no misunderstandings.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

I take a steadying breath and dive in. “Celeste called me over one day, saying she had something important to talk about. When I got there, she held up a positive pregnancy test, waiting for my reaction.”

The memory comes into focus with startling clarity. “I didn’t handle it well—not because of the baby. I’ve always wanted children, always known I’d love being a father. But the thought of having a child with her, especially when I’d already made the decision to end the relationship, was overwhelming. It was the permanence of it, and the way it could ripple through any future I might build with another woman. It felt like my entire world tilted, like the ground was shifting beneath me. The idea of being tied to her forever through a child hit me harder than I could’ve imagined.”

I watch Charleston’s reaction, willing her to understand. “None of it added up. Celeste is calculating. A pregnancy wouldn’t happen unless she planned it. And I said as much.”

I pause, bracing myself for the worst part. “What I didn’t know was that she was recording me—without my consent. An hour later, she posted the video online, along with another of herself crying hysterically, claiming I was abandoning her because she was pregnant. The narrative was set: I was the villain, and she was the victim.”

Charleston’s eyes narrow. “You have a child with her?”

“No.” I raise my hands quickly. “I probably should’ve led with that.”

She frowns, confusion plain in her expression. “Then what?—?”

“Celeste was never pregnant. It was all fake. She had her sister, who was pregnant at the time, take the test for her.”

Charleston’s jaw drops. “She faked a pregnancy? For what?”

The absurdity is still hard to process. “Followers and attention––she couldn’t get enough. It was another stunt to keep herself trending.”

“That’s insane. She dragged you into it like it was nothing?”

“Exactly. And when it all fell apart, I was left to deal with the fallout.”

Her brow furrows as she shakes her head. “Did it not occur to her that at some point, she’d have to explain why there was no baby?”

“She faked the positive pregnancy test and then claimed it was a false alarm. Honestly, I think her original plan was to fake a miscarriage to keep the spotlight on herself. But then she must have realized she could milk even more sympathy by spinning it into a story about how Imistreatedher.” Saying it out loud makes it sound even more absurd, like some over-the-top plot twist in a bad soap opera.

Charleston’s disgust is unmistakable. “That’s vile. Not just to you, but to anyone who’s experienced that kind of loss. It’s cruel and disrespectful to women who’ve suffered miscarriages or struggled to have children.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“How could you date a woman like that?”

The sting of regret is sharp even now. “She wasn’t like that at first. Or maybe I just didn’t see it. She was charming, confident, always the life of the party. For a while, I thought that was what I wanted. But over time, the cracks started to show. I learned that Celeste is one of those people who can become whoever she needs to be. She’s like a chameleon—she knew exactly what to say and how to act, like she’d rehearsed it all. I thought I knew her, but I was fooled.”

Charleston’s gaze softens. “I know that type all too well. Robin and Charlene are the same. They can shape-shift into whoever they need to be in the moment.”

Her hand shifts, resting lightly over mine. “Even though we’ve been playing this game with aliases, I want you to know I’ve always been real with you. Everything I’ve told you about myself is the truth. I’ve never pretended to be anyone else. But there’s one thing I haven’t shared—not because I was hiding it, but because it didn’t feel relevant before. Now that I understand you attract public attention, if someone ever decided to dig into my life, they might uncover something about my family.”

I grip her hand. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

She hesitates, taking a deep breath. “My father is not a good man. He’s serving life in the penitentiary for killing someone during a drug deal gone wrong.” Her eyes drop briefly, then rise again, steady but uncertain. “I would understand if you don’t want ties to the daughter of a convicted murderer.”

---