Chapter 1

Hannah

Noah’s breath fanned across my skin, raising goosebumps. “I’m… I’m not pregnant, Noah,” I said slowly, striving for steadiness under his intense gaze. His piercing green eyes made me feel utterly exposed, despite the restaurant’s dim lighting.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled, his fingers flexing against my abdomen. “You haven’t touched alcohol in weeks. You’ve been throwing up, and I know about your cravings…” His voice trailed off, and a flush crept up my neck. It was all true. I was pregnant. But I couldn’t tell him; not with only two months until our divorce.

Noah sensed my hesitation, his jaw tightening as he leaned closer. I smelled champagne on his breath, saw the flush on his cheekbones as the alcohol took hold. “I know you better than you think,” he rumbled. “You used to drink a lot, maybe too much. But now…” He shook his head, his eyes flickering to my stomach. “Something’s different.”

I struggled to find reassuring words, knowing they’d be lies. Swallowing hard, I gripped his wrist, guiding his palm to my emaciated stomach. “Do I even look pregnant?” I asked quietly, a tremor in my voice. “I’m… I’m thinner than ever, Noah. Just look at me. I’m disgusting.”

Noah’s gaze fell to his hand on my stomach, splayed over the satin of my dress. I watched him swallow, his jaw muscles twitching.

After what felt like an eternity, Noah stepped back, releasing me. I could breathe again as his warmth retreated. “You’re right about one thing,” he said quietly. “You do seem thinner. But…” He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. “You’re not disgusting, Hannah.”

His words struck me, and him too. I saw the conflict in his green eyes. Part of me wanted to pull him back. But another, darker part… felt relieved he’d noticed. Maybe it was twisted, but I couldn’t deny a flicker of satisfaction—that maybe, just maybe, he cared. Even a little.

“Thank you,” I said simply.

Chapter 1 (Bonus)

He stared, weighing my words. Then, his hand lifted, his long fingers skimming my cheek before I could recoil. “Just promise me,” he said gruffly, “that you won’t take those damn diet pills anymore. Or… or make yourself sick.” His expression twisted in distaste.

Shame, relief, and guilt—over not telling him about the diet pills—warmed my face. For a moment, I almost confessed; but not now. Not tonight.

Wordlessly, I extended my pinky. “One pinky promise.”

Noah’s eyes crinkled as he stared at my finger. Then, slowly, he curled his larger finger around mine.

“Like we used to,” I said softly, a sting behind my eyes. “Do you remember?”