She didn’t talk about this, not with anyone, but nothing short of an equally grand gesture would get Zach on her side. “Yes.” She whispered the word to keep the bile churning in her gut from erupting. “Then…” The striated muscles in his jaw danced. “How did the Stas think you were…” And it could get worse. The heat drained from her face. Her extremities grew numb like the drugs plunged into her vein again. The answer lodged itself in her windpipe. Sheer will forced it out one rusty word at a time. “He didn’t choose the path that would get me pregnant.” Zach’s hand lifted from her chest. The trickle turned into a waterfall. His hands latched onto his dark hair, straining the roots. He drifted from her on slow backward steps, and then turned and retreated to the large window. The grips on his head eased from his hair. He braced a hand on the edge of the wall.
