I sat on the cold hospital couch, my hands clenched tightly in my lap as the ticking of the wall clock echoed in my ears. Elijah was pacing silently beside me, his jaw tense, arms crossed tightly over his chest.The door finally opened, and our family doctor—Dr. Ramirez—stepped in with a clipboard pressed to his chest, his expression unreadable.I stood immediately. “Doc? How is she?”Dr. Ramirez sighed, then gently closed the door behind him. “Eliana is stable now,” he began, voice calm. “She’s severely dehydrated and physically exhausted, but nothing that fluids and rest won’t fix.”Elijah exhaled sharply, relief flickering in his eyes—but only for a second.“There’s something else,” the doctor continued, shifting his weight. “She’s still pregnant.”My heart dropped.“What…?” I whispered.“She’s in her first trimester,” he said softly. “Roughly nine to ten weeks, based on her lab results and ultrasound. The bleeding wasn’t a miscarriage—it’s stress-induced. But the fetus is still th
I needed air. I needed to get out of the house before I completely lost it.I found myself driving to Rafael’s place, the weight of everything pressing on me. I didn’t know why I ended up there, but I did. Maybe because he was the only one who could listen without offering judgment. Or maybe because I just needed to hear someone else’s voice that wasn’t full of disappointment or anger.Rafael answered the door, already holding a bottle of whiskey. No words were exchanged; he just handed me a glass and led me to the couch.“Talk,” he said, pouring his own drink.I sank into the couch, staring into my glass. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Raf. Eliana… she’s not the girl we raised. I thought we had a chance at fixing things, but I don’t know. She didn’t abort the baby, but she’s still a mess. I don’t understand what happened to her, to all of them.”Rafael didn’t interrupt, just took a swig of his drink, waiting for me to continue.“Everything I do feels like it’s wrong. Eloise and I,
They say time heals all wounds. I used to think that was a lie we tell ourselves to make pain more bearable. But watching my family now… I know it’s not time that does the healing—it’s love.Life doesn’t go back to what it was. No—after everything that happened, it moves forward. Slowly. Quietly. And sometimes, beautifully.It’s been months since that chaotic morning when Eloah dropped that bomb during breakfast. Since then, things started changing around here. Not in the grand, dramatic way—but in small, healing ways.Eliana’s belly is growing now. She's finally smiling again. Some days are harder than others, but her strength reminds me of her mother. She spends most of her time with Eloise now—quiet conversations, warm hugs, even silent cries. It’s a bond they’re rebuilding, one I’m proud to watch from a distance. The moment I heard her scream from inside the delivery room, everything inside me stilled.Eliana—my daughter—my little girl, was about to become a mother.I was pacing
As much as I loathe calculus, I hate family dinner.Isn't it hypocritical to call it family dinner if you all don't see each other as one? If you don't treat each other as one? As I sat there, staring at the neatly arranged plates and utensils, the air around me felt so fake. Every movement felt scripted, as if everyone was pretending we were this perfect family. But the truth? We were far from it. Why do we even need to keep up this weekly charade? We all just sit here, eating in silence, pretending we're closer than we actually are.And honestly, the silence was better than the fake conversations.Uncle Sandro broke the silence, flashing his usual polite smile. "So, Farah, how's school going?"Farah, who had been quietly picking at her food, perked up a little. “I’m actually running for valedictorian in 10th grade,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.A small smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. At least someone in this family was achieving something. But before anyone else
"Ahh... Fuck…”“Damn… Ahh, fuck me… fuck me… Elijah, baby… Please… Ahh. Fuck me… Ah!”“You're so tight and wet! Fuck it!” Ahh… Fuck!”I'm there. I can feel it. I squeezed her boobs harshly as if holding to my sanity. I gave her a long thrust that made her moan long and loud before I convulsed. I immediately stood up, grabbed the condom, tossed it in the trash, and picked up my phone from the nightstand. I couldn't help but feel irritated when I still saw no reply from her. Me: Where are you? Me: I saw you with your friend yesterday. Me: Hey? Me: I saw your bank statement and you're running out of money. I was so frustrated I could have thrown my phone against the wall!“Is that Eloise Hart that I know?” Before I could type a reply, I felt someone wrap their arms around my back.“Not your business,” I replied, irritation creeping into my tone. She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed with my response. “Come on, I was just asking. You don’t have to be so uptight.”I ignored her
"You son of a bitch!” “Eloise, please, let me explain first!” He pleaded, there's desperation in his voice.“There’s nothing left to talk about! Fuck you!” I spat back, my hands gripping the car door, trying to steady myself. My heart was pounding, fury surging through every vein.“Eloise, come on! We’re going to crash! Damn it, fix your issues when we get home!” Eduard shouted from the back seat, his voice frantic, but I barely registered it. “Stop the car! I can’t stand looking at your fucking face! Stop the car!” I screamed, tears burning my eyes.The car swerved, and suddenly, everything was spinning—I jolted awake, gasping for air, my heart still racing as if I’d just lived through it all again. Reality came crashing down as I looked around and realized where I was.Elijah’s penthouse.Not his. Not that night.I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing, pushing the nightmare to the back of my mind. After a few moments, I threw the blanket off and got up. This wasn’t the firs
"I will never let this slide, Elijah!" I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of her words settle in. Four years. Four damn years since Matthew’s death, and my mother still couldn't let it go. Every mention of Eloise sent her spiraling. Taking a deep breath, I looked around. The early morning air was cool, the sky just starting to lighten, and here I was, standing outside in a simple white v-neck and sweatpants because my mother couldn’t resist making a scene.As I walked into the penthouse, I saw Eloise sitting at the dining table, eating ramen while watching something on my laptop—probably something she took from my room again.She looked different now than before Matthew died. Back then, she was full of life; her hair was bright, and her laughter filled the room. She was a painter, known for her bold colors and deep feelings. Everyone loved her, and she had a bright future ahead.But after the accident, it was like everything changed. The bright colors in her life turned dark. S
ELOISE“Isn’t it better if I take you inside? I can vouch for you to Uncle Edmund.” My face turned sour at his question. “What am I, a teenager?” I asked irritably as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I heard him laugh. “Aren’t you?”“Do you also want your nose to get broken like what I did to those jerks?” Elijah held up his hands in mock surrender, a playful grin still on his face. “Okay, okay, I get it. No nose-breaking today.”“Good,” I replied, finally pushing the car door open and stepping out. I straightened my clothes, feeling the evening chill brush against my skin."Thanks." That was the last thing I said before I walked away from his car.I could still hear his shout behind me, but I just raised my middle finger.I stumbled back into the house, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The events of the morning felt like a blur, but all I wanted was to crawl back into bed and forget about everything—especially the drama with my mother-in-law.I shuffled through the hallway, ignoring the s
They say time heals all wounds. I used to think that was a lie we tell ourselves to make pain more bearable. But watching my family now… I know it’s not time that does the healing—it’s love.Life doesn’t go back to what it was. No—after everything that happened, it moves forward. Slowly. Quietly. And sometimes, beautifully.It’s been months since that chaotic morning when Eloah dropped that bomb during breakfast. Since then, things started changing around here. Not in the grand, dramatic way—but in small, healing ways.Eliana’s belly is growing now. She's finally smiling again. Some days are harder than others, but her strength reminds me of her mother. She spends most of her time with Eloise now—quiet conversations, warm hugs, even silent cries. It’s a bond they’re rebuilding, one I’m proud to watch from a distance. The moment I heard her scream from inside the delivery room, everything inside me stilled.Eliana—my daughter—my little girl, was about to become a mother.I was pacing
I needed air. I needed to get out of the house before I completely lost it.I found myself driving to Rafael’s place, the weight of everything pressing on me. I didn’t know why I ended up there, but I did. Maybe because he was the only one who could listen without offering judgment. Or maybe because I just needed to hear someone else’s voice that wasn’t full of disappointment or anger.Rafael answered the door, already holding a bottle of whiskey. No words were exchanged; he just handed me a glass and led me to the couch.“Talk,” he said, pouring his own drink.I sank into the couch, staring into my glass. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Raf. Eliana… she’s not the girl we raised. I thought we had a chance at fixing things, but I don’t know. She didn’t abort the baby, but she’s still a mess. I don’t understand what happened to her, to all of them.”Rafael didn’t interrupt, just took a swig of his drink, waiting for me to continue.“Everything I do feels like it’s wrong. Eloise and I,
I sat on the cold hospital couch, my hands clenched tightly in my lap as the ticking of the wall clock echoed in my ears. Elijah was pacing silently beside me, his jaw tense, arms crossed tightly over his chest.The door finally opened, and our family doctor—Dr. Ramirez—stepped in with a clipboard pressed to his chest, his expression unreadable.I stood immediately. “Doc? How is she?”Dr. Ramirez sighed, then gently closed the door behind him. “Eliana is stable now,” he began, voice calm. “She’s severely dehydrated and physically exhausted, but nothing that fluids and rest won’t fix.”Elijah exhaled sharply, relief flickering in his eyes—but only for a second.“There’s something else,” the doctor continued, shifting his weight. “She’s still pregnant.”My heart dropped.“What…?” I whispered.“She’s in her first trimester,” he said softly. “Roughly nine to ten weeks, based on her lab results and ultrasound. The bleeding wasn’t a miscarriage—it’s stress-induced. But the fetus is still th
The moment I heard Elijah's question, the moment I knew that his patience died.Between the two of us, Elijah was always the gentler one. The soft place to land. Especially when it came to our daughters, he always managed to calm the storm—even when I couldn’t. But hearing him now—his voice sharp, raw, filled with something close to rage—it scared the hell out of me.I took a shaky breath, stepping in fast, reaching for his arm. His shoulders were tense, fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes—God, his eyes were locked on Eliana like he didn’t recognize her.“Elijah... Hon, please...” I whispered, gripping his arm tightly. “That’s our daughter.”But he didn’t even look at me. He took another step forward, and Eliana flinched.“What did I hear, young woman?” he said, his voice low but thundering in the room. “You aborted—you killed your own child?”My chest tightened. I saw the tears pooling in Eliana’s eyes, her jaw trembling, but her pride still holding her back from crumbling. I c
I stood beside Eloise, both of us silent as we stared at the wall filled with framed photos. Six kids—but basically seven kids.God, time flew fast.Each photo captured a piece of our life—Eloah with his mischievous grin, Eliana's shy little smile, and the twins, Sandra and Matthew, always caught mid-laughter, Ezrah smiling naughtily, and Eliam proudly showing off his new set of teeth. Then there was Elisha, our youngest for now, her baby photo framed right at the center.I slid my arm around Eloise’s waist, pulling her closer. "If we have another one," I murmured against her hair, "we’re gonna need a bigger wall."She let out a soft laugh, and I felt it against my chest. I smiled too. This wall—it wasn't just filled with pictures. It was filled with life, with memories we built together, one kid, one moment at a time.I leaned down and kissed the side of her head, thinking…If we were given another blessing, I wouldn't hesitate.I'd fill all the walls if it meant more of her, more of
The blinding lights above me blurred through the tears in my eyes. My body shook, exhausted, every inch of me screaming in pain. I gripped the sides of the bed so hard my knuckles turned white."Push, Eloise! One more push!" the doctor said.I sucked in a breath and pushed with everything I had. My heart pounded in my ears, the world narrowing to nothing but the sound of my own strained breathing and the overwhelming need to meet my baby.Then — a cry.A loud, desperate cry that made my heart burst in my chest. Tears streamed down my face as I collapsed against the bed, gasping for air."It's a girl," the nurse said softly.A girl.Our girl.I screamed again, my body wracked with a new wave of pain. I thought it was over—but the doctor’s voice cut through the chaos."Another one! Keep pushing, Eloise!"My eyes widened in shock. Another one?I didn’t even have time to process it. Elijah and I had agreed not to do an ultrasound, wanting it to be a surprise... but we never imagined this.
"Won't you apologize for Matthew?"Those were the first words I said the moment I sat across from him. No anger. No shouting. Just a cold, tired question.Noel leaned back in his chair, chains clinking lazily, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Apologize?" he repeated, almost amused. "For what?""For everything," I said, voice flat. "For ruining him. For dragging all of us into your mess. For being the reason he's dead."Noel scoffed, shaking his head slowly like I was the one who didn’t understand. "Matthew made his own choices. Don’t put that on me.”"You robbed me of ten years with him—""Oh, come on, Eloise. Don’t act like what I did didn’t favor you. And don’t pretend you loved Matthew the way I loved him. It was Elijah you loved, not Matthew. So stop acting like you’re heartbroken just because Matthew died!”I stiffened, feeling the rage rise in my chest, but I forced myself to stay still. I wasn’t going to give Noel the satisfaction of seeing me crack."You’re right,"
The walls were white. Too white. Too clean. Too quiet.I sat on the hospital bed, my hands resting on my lap, fingers unmoving. My eyes stared ahead, but I wasn't really seeing anything. Everything felt distant. Muted. Like the world decided to move on without me.I could hear Elijah’s voice somewhere near the door, low and serious. He was speaking to a doctor, their words blurring together until I finally caught one thing clearly—“They’re both okay.”They were talking about me and the baby.I’m okay.The baby is okay.But why didn’t it feel like it?My chest felt hollow. Heavy. Like something had been scooped out of me and all that was left was the echo of his voice.Matthew…He died in my arms.I keep replaying it—his last words, his final breath, the way his eyes dimmed as if the light just flickered out of his soul. And I just kept crying, screaming his name, begging a God I wasn’t even sure I believed in anymore.I didn’t get to say sorry.I didn’t get to tell him that I truly lo
We arrived at the edge of the abandoned building, the air thick with tension and dust. The place was rotting, every window shattered, every wall covered in graffiti. But it was quiet—too quiet. The men we brought with us started to spread out, silently taking their positions, blending into the shadows. I felt the weight of every second pressing down on me. My jaw clenched. My fists itched. My heart pounded with one thing in mind—Eloise.I glanced at Matthew, who gave me a nod. Even now, even with everything he was carrying, he was calm. Focused. We didn’t exchange words. We didn’t need to. We were here for one thing. And nothing was going to stop us.We didn’t go in right away.The building loomed ahead like a sleeping beast, silent and dangerous. But I knew better. It wasn’t sleeping. It was waiting.Matthew came up beside me, crouched low behind the broken wall we were using for cover. "Two on the left," he murmured. "Three more near the back, guarding the exits."I nodded once.