“That is none of your business,” she said.
Brandon scoffed, wounded by the boundary. “None of my business? We were married.”
“Were,” she said. “Past tense.”
His face flushed.
Savannah stepped closer, as if smelling blood.
“I mean, Brandon has a point,” she said. “You disappeared. No announcement. No baby shower posts. Nothing. It does look a little suspicious.”
Maddie almost laughed.
Suspicious.
As if grief had a posting schedule. As if loneliness needed a caption.
“I was surviving,” Maddie said. “Not hiding.”
Brandon’s expression flickered, and for half a second she saw the man she had once loved. Then pride closed over him like a locked door.
“You always do that,” he said. “Make everything sound like suffering when really you just don’t want accountability.”
Colton turned his head slowly. “Careful.”
Brandon glared. “Stay out of this.”
“No.”
The word was quiet, but final.
A store manager approached from the front aisle, concern etched across her face.
“Is everything okay here?” she asked.
Savannah instantly changed her expression. Her smile became soft, camera-ready, harmless.
“We’re fine,” she said. “Just a family situation.”
“We are not family,” Maddie said.
The manager looked at her. “Ma’am, do you need assistance?”
Before Maddie could answer, pain pulled low across her stomach. Not sharp enough to be labor, but strong enough to steal her breath.
She bent slightly over the cart.
Colton was beside her instantly.
“Maddie?”
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
“You don’t look okay,” the manager said.
Brandon moved forward again. “Let me—”
Colton raised one hand, stopping him without touching him.
“Back up.”
Brandon’s anger rose. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“When your presence is making her worse, yes, I do.”
Savannah’s eyes darted between them, and for the first time Maddie noticed something strange. Savannah was not only watching Maddie. She was watching Brandon watch Maddie.
There was jealousy there.
And fear.
The manager brought a chair from the customer service desk, and Colton helped Maddie sit. He did it gently, one hand hovering at her elbow, never assuming permission, never making her feel like a burden.
That small kindness nearly undid her.
Brandon used to sigh when she needed help. Used to make her feel dramatic for asking. Used to say, “Maddie, you have to be tougher than this.”
Colton only said, “Breathe slowly. I’m right here.”
Savannah glanced at Brandon.
“You told me we were just browsing,” she said.
Brandon looked confused. “What?”
“The stroller aisle,” Savannah said. “You said we were killing time before brunch. But you were looking at strollers like you already had one picked out.”
Brandon’s face shifted.
It was subtle, but Maddie caught it. So did Colton.
Savannah’s voice sharpened. “Why were you looking at strollers, Brandon?”
“Sav, not now.”
“Don’t ‘Sav’ me.” Her polished mask cracked. “You said kids weren’t even on your mind.”
Brandon looked away.
Maddie’s pain eased, but something else tightened inside her. The scene had turned, and Brandon was no longer the only person asking questions.
Colton watched him carefully.
“What did you not tell her?” he asked.
Brandon laughed too fast. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“It has something to do with Maddie if you’re standing here accusing her.”
Savannah’s face went pale. “Brandon?”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Can we not do this in public?”
Maddie looked up at him from the chair. Her body felt heavy, but her voice came out clear.
“You didn’t mind humiliating me in public.”
The words struck him. His mouth opened, then closed.
For once, he had no rehearsed answer.
Savannah looked from Maddie to Brandon, and understanding began to gather in her eyes like storm clouds.
“What did you do?” she whispered.
Brandon’s silence answered before he did.
Part 3
The baby store felt too bright, too warm, too crowded.
Maddie sat beneath a wall display of nursery mobiles while her past unraveled ten feet in front of her. A spinning moon and stars toy rotated gently above a crib, playing a soft melody that made the scene feel almost cruel. It was the kind of music meant for peace, and there was no peace anywhere near Brandon Hale.
Savannah faced him now, her phone forgotten in her hand.
“You told me you didn’t want children yet,” she said. “That your divorce was about compatibility. That Maddie wanted too much.”
Brandon’s eyes darted toward the watching customers. “Keep your voice down.”
Savannah laughed once, humorlessly. “That’s what you care about?”
Colton stood beside Maddie, his posture calm but ready.
Maddie gripped the edge of the chair. She knew that look on Brandon’s face. It was the look he wore whenever truth got too close. He became wounded, then angry, then noble. He would turn himself into the victim before anyone could accuse him of being the villain.
“I didn’t lie,” Brandon said.
Maddie looked at him. “Yes, you did.”
His eyes snapped to hers.
Something in her voice startled him. It startled her too.
She stood slowly.
Colton leaned closer. “You don’t have to.”
“I know,” she said. “But I’m tired of letting him speak for me.”
Brandon’s mouth tightened.
Maddie placed one hand beneath her belly and one on the chair to steady herself.
“You told everyone I gave up on our marriage,” she said. “You told your mother I was unstable. You told your friends I cared more about my career than building a family. You told me I was too sensitive, too emotional, too fragile to be a wife.”
Brandon’s face reddened. “That’s not fair.”
“No,” Maddie said. “What wasn’t fair was the way you made me believe I was the reason we couldn’t have a baby.”
Savannah went still.
The manager’s eyes widened.
Colton looked at Brandon, and his expression changed from suspicion to certainty.
Maddie swallowed hard. Once the words started, they came with the force of something buried alive.
“I spent months blaming myself. I thought my body failed. I thought I wasn’t enough. You watched me cry in the bathroom after every negative test, and you never once told me the truth.”
Brandon’s face lost color.
Savannah whispered, “What truth?”
Maddie looked at Brandon. “Tell her.”
He shook his head. “Maddie.”
“Tell her.”
Silence stretched.
Then Brandon said, so quietly that everyone leaned in to hear him, “I was told I might not be able to father children.”
Savannah took one step back.
“What?”
Brandon shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “It was complicated.”
“No,” Savannah said. “That sounds pretty simple.”
Maddie laughed softly, but there was no joy in it. “He knew before he left me.”
Savannah stared at Brandon with open disgust. “You let her think it was her fault?”
“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Brandon snapped.
Colton’s voice cut through the lie. “You didn’t want to be embarrassed.”
Brandon pointed at him. “You don’t know anything about my marriage.”
“I know she’s standing here shaking while you protect your pride.”
The words landed hard.
Maddie felt another pressure low in her belly. She closed her eyes, breathing through it.
Colton noticed immediately. “Maddie?”
“It’s okay,” she said, though she wasn’t sure.
Savannah stepped closer to Brandon.
“So all this time,” she said, voice trembling, “you were judging her, mocking her, acting shocked that she’s pregnant because you knew it probably couldn’t be yours.”
Maddie’s head snapped up.