They jumped apart.
Elise clutched her belly protectively and started crying.
“We were going to tell you. It just… happened. Camden’s the father.”
Everything after that was a blur of noise and white-hot agony.
I left.
Camden didn’t follow, and Elise didn’t apologize.
My marriage ended right there.
Two weeks later, Camden and Elise moved in together.
The fallout was predictable and swift.
Half of our old friends cut me off, half cut them off.
It was ugly.
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