I cut ties with my entire family and followed Griffin Blackwood without a ring on my finger. Within six months, he'd been named one of Boston's top entrepreneurs, and everyone said I'd made the right bet.

But the day before I gave birth, he still hadn't come.

That night, he called.

"I'm getting married today. Be quiet. Don't contact me."

I stood there, staring at the sudden rush of fluid soaking through my clothes, my mind going completely blank.

His voice on the other end was light, almost cheerful.

"She's been waiting three years. Now that my career is finally taking off, I can give her what she deserves."

I forced the words out, voice barely there. "What about me? What about the baby?"

"Have it," he said, completely unbothered. "I'll buy you a place. We can raise the kid together. You don't have anywhere else to go anyway — your family already wrote you off."

The contraction hit me so hard I almost blacked out.

I squeezed out one word.

"Okay."

I'm not going back home. And I'm not staying with you.