There was no way I could tell her that the moment she stepped out of the car, I was heading straight back to her mother to answer that text in person. That photo had lit a fire in my gut that was impossible to ignore. I wanted to be inside that apartment five minutes ago, but I couldn't risk the overlap. I needed Ivy far away before I visited the woman currently carrying my child.
Outside, the rain had slowed slightly, though the sky remained a bruised, heavy purple. We rushed to the car, the damp air chilling my skin. I unlocked the doors and we slid inside, the heavy thunk of the doors sealing us into the dry, climate-controlled interior. Ivy leaned back, patting her shoulders to brush away the raindrops.
"Fucking weather…"
"Yeah," I said, twisting the key. "Disgusting."
