Later that evening, Andrew texted me right around bedtime. I replied to his messages without much enthusiasm. To my boyfriend's credit, he noticed that something was "off" with me even though I made no mention of the life-altering bomb Naomi had dropped about Stevie's parentage.

Andrew asked:

I jumped on the excuse he provided me to mask what was really weighing on my mind:

Guilt riddled my conscience. I was withholding information from Andrew on purpose. Ever since Naomi's call, I found myself withdrawing from him. Retreating from our relationship. Because part of me sensed that we were going to break up sooner rather than later. My questionable behavior had nothing to do with Andrew, of course. He was amazing. This shit was all on me. It made me feel like a total asshole. But I simply didn't feel right dating him in such a half-hearted manner. Andrew was the kind of man who deserved all of me, and I already knew that I could never give myself to him. Not completely, anyway. Not when my heart was constantly living, breathing, and beating for someone else.

After I bid Andrew "goodnight," I tossed and turned in bed until morning light seeped into my room. I'm ashamed to say that my relationship with Andrew was the furthest thing from my mind.

The next morning, Gray and I both took some time off from work, dropped Stevie off at daycare, and drove together to the coffee shop where we were supposed to meet Naomi. I was a basket of nerves. Gray didn't look like he was faring much better. His jaw remained clenched during the entire ride. Gray's forefinger kept tapping anxiously against the steering wheel.

Our reality had been turned inside out, and we hadn't even caught wind of the full story yet. Frenzied thoughts and emotions, too fucked up and confusing to name, threatened to overflow. Something in my gut told me that Naomi wasn't lying. That she was telling the truth. That my sister was actually the villain in this entire charade.

Every single one of Lydia's cruel, calculated lies had dictated, tormented, and toyed with every aspect of my life. I was heartbroken all over again, but this betrayal felt different. I didn't know how I could ever heal from Lydia's duplicity.

Forgiveness was out of the question. My sister had poisoned a piece of my heart forever. The only pure parts that remained belonged to Gray. And Stevie. I loved Stevie. My love for her gave me some comfort in the middle of all this turmoil. I was going to be her guardian no matter what, regardless of who her father might be, and I wanted to sort this shit out with Naomi as soon as possible. The uncertainty of Stevie's future, with or without Gray, was ripping me to shreds. Selfishly, I was terrified of losing him as a friend and co-parent.

Seeming to sense my growing distress, Gray's gaze darted toward me for a second before shifting back to the road. "You okay?"

I nodded and fibbed, "Mm-hmm."

He looked surprised. "Really?"

I grimaced. "No, actually, I'm kind of a mess."

"You're not alone," Gray assured me. "I couldn't sleep at all last night."

A slow, resigned beat stretched between us before I confessed as well, "Neither could I."

As his truck sped down the freeway, I couldn't say for sure if I reached for Gray first, or if he reached for me, but, somehow, our hands found each other at the height of our shared anxiety. He kept one hand on the wheel while clasping my hand with his other one. I held on tight to Gray for the rest of the drive, letting our hands rest in my lap. Just like when we were kids, he became my anchor as the world spun away. I tried not to focus on the what ifs—

What if Gray decided to leave us?

What if today was the last day I'd get to hold his hand?

What if, what if, what if—

My heart clenched up with anguish. I shoved the feelings aside. For now, I reminded myself, Gray and I were united in our love for Stevie. For now, nothing had changed. For now, the three of us were a family.

But would we still be a family after this meeting with Naomi?

I didn't know. I was too scared to ask Gray about how he felt in regard to the situation. About what he planned to do in regard to Stevie. About whether or not he would be willing to stick around if he didn't share any DNA with our baby girl.

Fifteen nerve-wracking minutes later, we arrived at our destination. With tense faces, Gray and I stepped out of his truck and entered the coffee shop. Inside, I spotted Naomi right away. She was sitting in one of the corner booths. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Olive-toned complexion. I walked up to her table and took a seat beside her. Gray trailed closely behind me. Naomi looked up from her coffee cup and grimaced when she saw us. For a second or two, the three of us simply stared at one another in awkward silence as a sense of gloom permeated the air.

"Hey... Gracie," she said, breaking the silence at last, "Hi... Gray."

I gulped. "Hello, Naomi."

Gray grunted, "Hey."

Naomi cleared her throat. "So, um..."

I waited for her to continue.

She released a sigh of frustration, "God, I don't even know where to begin..."

Gray's jaw ticked.

Apprehension continued to rise in my chest.

Naomi sighed again as though she was the one being put in a miserable position. "This is so fucked up."

"I couldn't agree more," snapped Gray.

Naomi grimaced. "Please don't get mad at me. I'm just the messenger."

He ignored her plea and growled, "When did Lydia tell you about Stevie's dad?"

My eyes grew large. He sounded pissed. Understandably so.

Naomi glanced at Gray with an uneasy gleam in her eyes. She dove into defense mode, muttering, "Lydia made me promise to keep my mouth shut. At her funeral, I really wanted to talk to you guys about Stevie, but it felt so wrong to betray my dead best friend, you know?"

"Just answer the question," Gray urged in flat tones. "How long have you been keeping this shit from us?"

Naomi mumbled, "Not long after Lydia found out that she was pregnant..."

From there, Gray proceeded to give Naomi a very thorough and very intense interrogation. "What did she say to you, exactly?"

"That you're not Stevie's father. But she needed you to be his stand-in until she figured her shit out."

Shock froze on Gray's face. "Why did she need me?"

"Because Stevie's real dad is an asshole and broke up with her when she told him about Stevie. And you kind of looked like him."

"So... Lydia was using me? Because she needed a dad for Stevie?"

"Something like that."

Gray released a strained choking noise. "I don't fucking believe this..."

As Gray and Naomi's chaotic back and forth rallied on, everything about their conversation was triggering the hell out of me, but I forced myself to sit by and watch and listen, choosing not to disrupt their exchange. Gray deserved answers. He deserved the whole fucking truth from Naomi.

"Did you she tell you what happened... that night... after we left the bar?"

Wincing, Naomi replied, "Apparently, you guys went back to her apartment."

I tensed up.

Anxiously, Gray demanded the exact question that was plaguing me, "What happened once we got to Lydia's apartment?"

"She said that you passed out on her bed..."