Nicole squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear tracking through her makeup. The shame, the relief, and the agony all collided at once.
"I have a daughter, Kenneth," she choked out. "She's thirteen months old. Her name is Aria."
The silence that followed was deafening. Kenneth's hand dropped to his side. He looked like he had been struck. "A daughter? You... you got married? In Taiwan?"
"No," Nicole sobbed, finally looking him in the eye. "I never got married. I never even went on a date. There's only ever been one person, Kenneth. That night... the Long Island tea... it wasn't just a dream."
Kenneth's breath hitched. The math clicked in his head—the timeline, the sudden flight to Taiwan, the way her parents had acted. "She's mine? You had my baby and you didn't tell me?"
"I was scared!" she cried out, clutching her chest as the pain intensified. "My father would have destroyed you! I did it to save you!"
She doubled over, the physical discomfort becoming unbearable. Her breasts were rock-hard, the skin stretched to its limit. "Kenneth, please... I can't... I'm in so much pain. I forgot my pump and I've stayed too long..."