Ch. Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 84 Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 84

Chapter 2 

Jon’s mouth found my shoulder. He laughed. “Knew it. Playing hard to get, right? If you didn’t care, why the 

tears?” 

I locked my phone without looking. “Just thinking about how crazy I used to act.” 

Five years of losing my mind. I barely recognized who I’d become. 

He turned my face toward his, kissed my tears away like he was making a point. “Now you know how much 

crap I put up with for you.” 

We were getting into it when Tiffany’s voice came through the door. 

Jon’s eyes lit up. “Want to make it three?” 

I went stiff. 

He sighed, ran his thumb over my lip. “Being my wife isn’t like being an Ashford princess, Evie. You need to 

learn to share.” 

“Keep being good, and next year I’ll take you to meet my parents for real.” 

I watched him walk out with her. 

But Jon? There wasn’t going to be a next year. 

We’d met freshman year. Dated four years. He was that guy on campus, the one every girl wanted. His inbox 

was always full. 

And he never said no to anyone. Just smiled and said he loved seeing me get jealous. 

Four years of that, and I was a wreck. Always on edge, always territorial, growling at every woman who came 

near him like some animal protecting its den. 

I was so desperate to hold onto something. So the day we graduated, I proposed. 

He lit a cigarette first. “Evie, look, I’m not ready to settle down. I’ll marry you, you’ll be my wife. But I’m gonna 

need some freedom on the side. You cool with that?” 

I thought he was joking. 

Day six of the marriage, I walked in on him with someone else. 

He didn’t even stop. 

Something in me just snapped. I trashed the whole apartment. 

The girl ended up in the hospital. We ended up on the front page. 

After that, Jon came up with the Christmas draw, his way of teaching me to behave. 

Chapter 2 

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My brother Alex bet me, if Jon didn’t take me home within five years, he’d come get me himself. 

I was so sure. So stupid. 

Year one, he took a nail salon girl. Left me standing outside his family’s mountain estate in the freezing cold. 

I walked home all night, hands blistered. 

Year two, some farmer’s daughter. He posted a family photo on Instagram, and she was front and center. I 

sat alone with cold leftovers, crying until I couldn’t breathe. 

I started praying. Every night. Begging to finally get picked. 

Year three. Year four. 

And now, the last year. Still not me. 

I was the joke of Ashland. The punchline at every dinner party. 

Fine. I was done. 

[Alex,] I typed. [Come get me early. I can’t stand another Ashland Christmas.] 

Chanter 

C 

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