I Hate You.

Tobias staggers backward, and I press my palm over my thumping chest. My heart feels like it is desperately trying to rip through the layers of skin and expose its vulnerable state. Calmly, he picks up the fallen chair, sets it upright, and collapses into it. His gaze is trained on the floor in front of him as we remain still. The pair of us are too afraid to disrupt the silence between us as we try to figure out how we got here.

I wonder if he is blaming me. Conjuring up scenarios in his head of me setting out to trap him to demand a substantial payout to keep my mouth shut. Surely, he wouldn’t be so foolish to think that after I haven’t attempted to contact him all this time.

“I was told that I was infertile,” he mutters as his brows knit together.

“You didn’t wear protection, Tobias. Not once, and El told me that if you…” My voice trails for a beat. “That if you were to ejaculate multiple times in a short span, there was a small chance that you had one or two good swimmers.”

His ga