Chapter 1
I pushed open the hospital room door expecting to find my boyfriend visiting a sick relative.
Instead, I found him standing beside another woman's bed, gently touching the blanket wrapped around a newborn baby.
For three seconds, I couldn't move.
Then I heard myself scream.
"Darius... what is this?"
He turned so quickly that the leather crossbody bag hanging against his cream-colored shirt swung across his chest.
His face went pale.
"Tasha?"
I stared at him.
The woman in the hospital bed looked exhausted. Her short natural hair was flattened against the pillow, and she held the tiny baby against her chest with both arms.
She looked from Darius to me.
Then she lowered her eyes.
My heart began pounding.
"You told me you were visiting your uncle."
Darius took a step toward me.
"Baby, please."
I pointed at the hospital bed.
"Don't call me baby! Who is she?"
The woman tightened her arms around the newborn.
Darius moved between us.
"Let me explain."
I pushed past his shoulder just enough to see the child's face.
A tiny nose.
Soft cheeks.
Little fingers curled against the blanket.
The baby couldn't have been more than a day old.
And Darius was standing beside the bed like he belonged there.
My stomach twisted.
"Is that your child?"
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I felt the room tilt.
My name is Tasha Bennett.
I was twenty-nine years old, and I had spent six years believing I would marry Darius Cole.
We lived together in a comfortable apartment in Atlanta.
We had discussed marriage, children, and buying our first house.
Three months earlier, he had taken me to look at engagement rings.
I remembered him slipping a diamond ring onto my finger at the jewelry counter.
"One day soon," he whispered.
I believed him.
I believed almost everything he told me.
That was my problem.
Darius was charming.
He had short dreadlocks, a warm smile, and the kind of voice that made arguments seem smaller than they were.
Whenever I worried about our future, he reassured me.
Whenever I asked questions, he kissed my forehead.
And whenever something didn't make sense, he always had an explanation.
Until that afternoon.
The morning had started normally.
I was making breakfast when his phone rang.
He looked at the screen and immediately stepped into the hallway.
I heard him whispering.
Then he returned looking anxious.
"Something happened to Uncle Raymond."
I turned off the stove.
"What happened?"
"He's at the hospital."
My stomach tightened.
"Is he okay?"
Darius rubbed his forehead.
"I don't know yet."
I reached for my purse.
"I'll come with you."
He shook his head.
"No. You have that presentation today."
"Darius, your family is important."
"I know, baby. But there's no reason for both of us to sit at the hospital."
I hesitated.
He kissed my forehead.
"I'll call you."
Then he left.
Three hours passed.
No call.
I sent messages.
Nothing.
Finally, I contacted his cousin, Andre.
"Hey, how's Uncle Raymond doing?"
Andre sounded confused.
"Uncle Raymond?"
"Yeah. Darius said he was in the hospital."
There was a pause.
Then Andre laughed nervously.
"Tasha, Uncle Raymond is in Florida fishing."
I felt cold.
"What?"
"He posted pictures this morning."
I stared at the wall.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I checked Darius's location.
We had shared locations for years.
Normally, I never looked.
But that afternoon, the little blue dot showed him at Saint Catherine Medical Center.
I called again.
He didn't answer.
So I drove there.
I told myself there had to be a reasonable explanation.
Maybe another relative was sick.
Maybe he'd misunderstood the call.
Maybe Andre didn't know something.
But when I reached the hospital, I saw Darius's car parked near the maternity entrance.
That was when fear turned into something darker.
I asked the reception desk to contact him.
A nurse called the private room and told someone that Tasha Bennett was downstairs.
Minutes later, I received a message from an unfamiliar number.
"Room 314. You deserve to hear the truth."
I stared at it.
Then walked toward the elevator.
Now I was standing in room 314, looking at a newborn baby and a man who couldn't meet my eyes.
"Darius," I whispered, "tell me the truth."
He swallowed.
"Tasha, it's complicated."
I almost laughed.
Complicated.
That was the word people used when the truth made them look terrible.
The woman in the bed finally spoke.
"He didn't tell you?"
Her voice was quiet.
But the question cut through me.
I turned toward her.
"Tell me what?"
Darius immediately looked at her.
"Monique, don't."
Monique.
So that was her name.
She stared at him.
Then looked back at me.
"You really don't know."
I shook my head.
"Know what?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
Darius stepped closer.
"Monique, please."
She ignored him.
Then looked down at the baby.
I noticed something strange.
She wasn't looking at Darius with affection.
She looked frightened.
Almost angry.
And Darius wasn't looking at her the way a new father might look at the mother of his child.
He looked desperate.
Like a man guarding a secret.
I took a breath.
"Monique, is Darius the father?"
She stared at me.
Then glanced toward the small plastic hospital bassinet.
A folded document lay beside it.
Her expression changed.
"You need to ask him why he's really here."
I turned slowly.
Darius's face had lost all color.
His hands were trembling.
"Darius?"
He looked toward the door.
Then at Monique.
Then at me.
I had never seen him so frightened.
I took one step closer.
"What did you do?"
He whispered, "Tasha, I was going to tell you."
"When?"
He couldn't answer.
Monique reached toward the document beside the bassinet.
Darius moved quickly.
"Don't touch that!"
I stepped between them.
"Stop!"
The baby startled and began whimpering.
Monique immediately pulled the child closer.
I stared at Darius.
His breathing was uneven.
Then I looked at the folded document.
At the top were three words.
TEMPORARY GUARDIANSHIP REQUEST.
My stomach dropped.
I looked back at Darius.
"What does that have to do with you?"
He closed his eyes.
May you like
And Monique whispered something that made my entire world collapse.
"Because he told the hospital that you're going to raise my baby."
