Let me have him—I’m pregnant,” my sister announced as she walked down the aisle at my wedding in a dress nearly identical to mine, expecting me to fall apart, but instead I looked toward the billionaire
Three years of vacations, birthdays, Sunday grocery runs, arguments over thermostat settings, late-night takeout, and conversations about children we had not yet had. And the best sentence Ryan could give me was two words. “I’m… Let me have him—I’m pregnant,” my sister announced as she walked down the aisle at my wedding in a dress nearly identical to mine, expecting me to fall apart, but instead I looked toward the billionaire









