She bit her lip, then added softly, “But the baby is innocent…”
Baby?
I stared at Maeve, unable to believe it.
Zion’s face changed slightly. He reached out and pulled Maeve into his arms.
“Maeve is pregnant. It’s my child. I need to take responsibility.”
He paused, then, almost as if giving himself courage, said, “And also, Maeve’s baby is a boy. Natalie’s baby is a girl.”
“Grandpa, I’m doing this for the family line.”
For the family line.
Those words were like an old, dull knife pushed straight into my chest.
A family like the Payne family had known the gender of my baby the moment I had prenatal tests.
But whether it was Ravenna, Kale, or Zion’s parents abroad, not one of them ever cared.
Back then, Zion had held me close, swearing again and again, “No matter boy or girl, as long as the baby is yours, it’s precious to me, the one who carries on the Payne family.”
This past year, there were plenty of women who tried to get pregnant with his child.
He turned all of them away.
But now, Maeve was pregnant. And she was carrying a boy.
And this baby was now being pushed in front of me by my own husband, said with those words, “carry the family line,” as if it were completely reasonable.