The dining room was quiet, sunlight soft across the marble table.
Elaine placed the ultrasound photo beside James’s coffee cup. Her hands trembled as she sat.
He entered moments later, barely glancing up. “Why are you here?”
“I made breakfast.”
He picked up his coffee. “Don’t act like we’re a couple.”
“I just wanted—” She paused. “Please look.”
James frowned and turned the image toward him. The heartbeat was visible. Labeled. Dated. Eight weeks.
Elaine whispered, “I’m not lying.”
James’s jaw tightened. “So it’s true.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
His coffee cup hit the table harder than necessary. “And what do you want from me this time? A press conference? A family portrait?”
“Nothing but your presence,” she said. “Stay until the birth. No affection. No promises. Just… don’t abandon this baby.”
“You should’ve thought of that before,” he said coldly.
Her eyes widened. “Before what?”
“Before drugging me. Before ruining my life.”