chapter Twelve

**RYAN**

The evening had gone better than I'd anticipated. Tara had played her part well, and my parents seemed convinced. As we drove back, I stole glances at her. She was staring out the window, lost in her thoughts. I could sense her unease, and it gnawed at me.

When we arrived at her apartment, I decided to break the silence. "Would you like me to come up for a drink?" I asked.

She looked at me, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Sure," she replied, her voice hesitant.

We walked up to her apartment, and she invited me in. It was the first time I'd been in her personal space, and I couldn't help but notice the small details – the cozy, lived-in feel, the books scattered about, the faint scent of vanilla. It was so...Tara.

She handed me a glass of wine, and we settled onto the couch. For a while, neither of us spoke, the tension between us palpable. Finally, I broke the silence. "You did well tonight, with my parents."

She gave a small, tight-lipped smile. "Thanks. It wasn't easy."

"I know." I took a sip of my wine, contemplating my next words. "This situation isn't ideal, Tara. But we need to make the best of it."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "The best of it? Ryan, you forced me into this. Do you think I enjoy pretending to be your loving wife-to-be?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I didn't force you. I gave you a choice."

"A choice?" She laughed bitterly. "You call this a choice? You left me with no options."

I looked at her, feeling a pang of guilt. She was right. I had backed her into a corner, and now she was paying the price. "I'm sorry, Tara. I really am."

She stared at me, her eyes searching mine. "Why, Ryan? Why go through all this trouble?"

I hesitated, then decided to be honest. "Because I care about you, more than I should. And I care about our child."

Her expression softened, but only for a moment. "If you care so much, why didn't you just ask me? Why manipulate everything?"

I had no answer for that. I looked away, feeling the weight of her disappointment.

**TARA**

Ryan's confession left me reeling. I had always seen him as cold and calculating, but now there was something vulnerable in his eyes. Did he really care? Or was this just another manipulation?

I decided to push further. "You care about me? Or do you just care about control?"

His eyes snapped back to mine, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "It's not about control, Tara. It's about making sure our child has a stable future."

"By forcing us into a sham marriage?" I shook my head. "That's not stability, Ryan. That's a lie."

He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes. "I don't know what else to do."

His admission surprised me. I had never seen Ryan unsure of anything. The silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. I took another sip of my wine, trying to gather my thoughts.

"I don't know either," I admitted quietly. "But this...this isn't the way."

We sat in silence, the weight of our predicament pressing down on us. I thought about the future, about our child growing up in a world of lies and half-truths. It wasn't what I wanted. But what choice did I have?

Suddenly, my phone buzzed, breaking the silence. I glanced at it, my heart skipping a beat when I saw the name on the screen.

**RYAN**

I watched as Tara's face went pale, her hand trembling slightly as she picked up her phone. "Who is it?" I asked, my voice edged with concern.

She looked at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. "It's Dammy."

A cold knot of dread formed in my stomach. "What does he want?"

"I don't know." She answered the call, putting it on speaker. "Hello?"

"Tara, it's me." Dammy's voice came through, tense and urgent. "We need to talk. It's important."

Tara glanced at me, then back at the phone. "About what?"

There was a pause on the other end, then Dammy's voice dropped to a whisper. "It's about the baby. There's something you need to know."

My blood ran cold. What could Dammy possibly know about the baby? Tara looked at me, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"I can't explain over the phone. Meet me at the café in an hour. Please, Tara. It's urgent."

The call ended, leaving us in a stunned silence. Tara looked at me, her eyes filled with questions I didn't have answers to.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

I stood up, my mind racing. "We go to the café. And we find out what the hell Dammy knows."