The soft beep of machines filled the hospital room.Odette lay motionless, her auburn curls splayed against the white pillow, her face pale under the dim glow of the bedside lamp. The steady rise and fall of her chest was the only proof she was still here, still fighting.Anton sat beside her, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles had gone white. He had seen death too many times to count. He had caused it, delivered it with cold precision. But this?Watching her like this, suspended between life and something far worse—this was agony.Damien entered the room quietly, but Anton didn’t look up. He had barely moved since the doctors stabilized her, hadn’t left her side. The only thing keeping him from coming undone was the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat on the monitor.“She’s stable,” Damien said, his voice unreadable. “For now.”Anton exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face.“I should’ve stopped her.” His voice was rough, raw with frustration. “
The world felt too quiet.A soft hum filled the air, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered, thick and suffocating.Odette’s lashes fluttered before her eyes slowly peeled open. The room around her was unfamiliar, too bright, too pristine. She blinked sluggishly, her mind struggling to piece together where she was—how she had gotten here.Her body ached. A deep, pulsing throb settled in her ribs, a cruel reminder of the gunshot wound she had barely allowed herself time to recover from.Then, like a dam breaking, the memories crashed into her.The trap. The planning. The sharp pain that stole her breath. The sound of Anton’s voice calling her name before she lost consciousness.Anton.Her heart lurched.She turned her head sharply, wincing as the movement sent a sharp sting through her side.The chair beside her bed was empty.The room was empty.Anton wasn’t here.Odette’s fingers curled into the sheets, a lump forming in her t
Odette stared at the ceiling, listening to the faint ticking of the clock on the far wall.She had been awake for over an hour, but she hadn’t moved.The letter sat on her bedside table, exactly where she had left it the night before. The heavy paper, the familiar handwriting—Anton’s words still lingered in her mind.She hated that they still had power over her.A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and a familiar face peeked inside.Amerie.Her best friend stepped in cautiously, as if unsure of her welcome. But the second her eyes landed on Odette, the hesitation melted into something warmer.“Oh, thank God.” Amerie strode forward, dropping her bag onto the chair before wrapping Odette in a tight hug. “You scared the hell out of me.”Odette stiffened for only a moment before sinking into the embrace.Amerie smelled like vanilla and home.Something safe.“I’m fine,” Odette muttered.Amerie pulled back, arching a brow. “You were unconsc
Odette sat on the edge of her hospital bed, fingers curled into the sheets.She hadn’t moved since Amerie left.The words still echoed in her mind.When was your last period?She should have been able to answer immediately, but when she tried to count the days, everything blurred together.The last few weeks had been chaos—gunfire, secrets, betrayals. She had been too busy surviving to notice.But now?Now, the nausea, the exhaustion, the deep ache in her body…It all felt different.A soft knock at the door broke her thoughts.She exhaled slowly, expecting Amerie.But instead, a nurse stepped inside, holding a small wrapped package. “This arrived for you.”Odette didn’t have to ask who it was from.Anton.She stared at the package, her pulse quickening.The nurse hesitated before setting it on the bedside table. “Do you need anything else?”Odette shook her head, and with a polite nod, the woman left.For a long moment, Odette simply looked at the package.She should ignore it.Shoul
Odette stood by the hospital window, absently tracing patterns on the cool glass.The city stretched before her, bustling with life—cars weaving through the streets, people moving about their day, unaware of how desperately she longed to be one of them.She had spent too much time in this sterile room, drowning in silence, surrounded by flowers and gifts she refused to acknowledge. The walls felt suffocating, pressing in on her, a constant reminder of everything she had lost and everything she wasn’t ready to face.Anton was gone.Her body still ached, the lingering pain from her gunshot wound a cruel echo of what had happened. But she was healing. The bruises were fading, the stitches had been removed. Soon, she would be strong enough to leave.And when she did, she would pretend that none of this had ever happened.She would go back to work.She would reclaim her normal life.She had to.But even as she repeated the thought in her head, it didn’t feel convincing.A knock at the door
Odette was half-asleep when the knock came.It was soft at first, almost hesitant. She groaned, turning onto her side, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and leave.No such luck.The knock came again—firmer this time.She sighed, pushing herself upright, wincing as her sore muscles protested. “Come in.”The door opened, and a nurse stepped inside, her expression neutral but unreadable. She carried a clipboard and a small white envelope, sealed with the hospital’s official stamp.“Miss Falcone,” she greeted gently.Odette rubbed her temples. “If this is another check-up, I promise I’m—”The nurse held out the envelope. “I have your test results.”Odette frowned, glancing at the envelope before taking it. “Test results?”“For the bloodwork we ran when you were admitted,” the nurse explained. “It’s routine after trauma.”Odette’s stomach clenched.She tore open the envelope, scanning the medical jargon printed across the paper. Her eyes moved frantically, searching for something—a
Odette sat at the small desk in her hospital room, staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of her.The pen in her hand hovered just above it, unmoving.For the past hour, she had been trying to write. Trying to form the words that had been circling in her mind since she found out the truth.She had started and stopped a dozen times, each failed attempt ending with her ripping the page from the notepad and tossing it into the wastebasket.Because no matter how hard she tried—she didn’t know what to say.What was she supposed to write?Anton, I’m pregnant.Anton, you left me, but you left something behind.Anton, do you even deserve to know?Her chest tightened.The letters had been coming every single day since he left.Each one a reminder that even though he wasn’t physically here, he still lingered in her life. A constant shadow, refusing to disappear.But now?Now, they had stopped.It had been four days since the last one arrived.And for the first time since she woke up in th
The letter sat in front of her, untouched.Odette had been staring at it for the past twenty minutes, the words blurring together as her mind twisted itself into knots.She had written it last night.A full page of raw, unfiltered truth.The things she had been too afraid to say.The words she had buried under anger and resentment and the ache of wanting him back but not knowing if she could forgive him.She should have sent it by now.But instead, here she was—waiting.For what?She didn’t know.Maybe for some kind of sign.Maybe for one of his letters to arrive, proving that he hadn’t disappeared completely.Maybe just for courage.A sharp knock broke the silence.She barely had time to straighten before Amerie strode inside, a knowing look already on her face.“You still haven’t sent it, have you?”Odette exhaled, rubbing her temple. “Amerie—”Amerie held up a hand. “Save it. I already know the excuses you’re about to make.” She glanced at the desk, her gaze landing on the letter.
Anton had spent months proving himself.Months of waiting.Of constantly showing up.Of continually choosing her, over and over again.And Odette had spent those same months resisting.Not because she didn’t love him.But because loving him had never been the problem.Trusting him was and she is so scared of giving out her heart again. But trust—real trust—wasn’t won overnight.It was built, brick by brick, moment by moment.And Anton?Anton had laid the foundation, patiently and relentlessly.Until finally—Odette let herself believe it.Believe him.Believe everything he has been trying to prove. And for the first time since this all began—she let herself want him again, this time with no doubts. Really, truly, want him.Not as a ghost from her past.Not as a memory she tried to bury.But as a man who had fought for her.And won.A man whom she has given her heart to. The first time they went out in public together, the world noticed.Odette hadn’t wanted a spectacle, but she di
Odette had spent months convincing herself she could live without Anton.That she was better off without him.That she had moved on.But every time she saw him, every time he showed up and didn’t push, every time he just… waited—Her resolve cracked.And tonight, it finally broke.It had been a long day.Her body ached, exhaustion pressing against her limbs like a weight she couldn’t shake.She had spent the afternoon organizing the nursery—folding tiny clothes, arranging baby books, trying to ignore the growing sense of anticipation and fear inside her.She wasn’t ready.Not for motherhood.Not for Anton.Not for any of it.But time didn’t care if she was ready.Time kept moving, pulling her forward whether she liked it or not.And now, as she stepped out of the building, the cool night air brushing against her skin, she felt so unbearably lost.Then she saw him.Anton stood near the curb, his presence as steady as ever.He didn’t say anything.Didn’t move toward her.He just waited.
Odette was tired.Not physically—her body had adjusted to the pregnancy, the nausea had faded, and for the first time in weeks, she felt stable.No, this exhaustion ran deeper.It was the kind that weighed in her chest every time she saw him.Every time Anton appeared—silent, steady, unshaken—standing just close enough to remind her that he was still there.That he wasn’t leaving.Not this time.And she hated it.Hated that he made it so damn hard to push him away.Hated that he was doing everything right.And most of all—she hated that it was working.It started with small things.Little gestures that she didn’t notice at first.Or rather—refused to notice.Anton always kept his distance.But when she went to the grocery store, he was there—pretending to be occupied by something else.When she went to the doctor, he never followed her inside.But every time she stepped out of the clinic, she felt his presence.Like he was watching, waiting.Like he was protecting her.Like he was sti
Odette stared at Anton, her heart hammering violently in her chest.I’m leaving it all behind.The words still echoed in her mind, pressing against the walls of her carefully built defenses.He was saying everything she had once wanted to hear.Everything she had once prayed for.But now?Now, it felt like too little, too late.Anton watched her, waiting.Giving her space.Giving her a choice.Odette inhaled sharply, forcing herself to steady.And then—She turned away.Her voice was quiet but firm.“You can’t just say things like that and expect me to believe you.”A muscle in Anton’s jaw tightened. “I’m not expecting you to believe me.”She looked back at him, eyes narrowing. “Then what are you expecting?”He held her gaze. “To prove it to you.”Odette clenched her fists.She hated that he was calm.She hated that he knew she wouldn’t walk away—not yet.Because she had questions.Because she still wanted answers.Because—**despite everything—**she still wanted him.And that was what
Anton hadn’t spoken to Annika in weeks.Not because he didn’t trust her—but because he knew what she would say.He had been watching Odette.Keeping his distance.Waiting for the moment she would come to him.But she never did.And when Annika finally reached out, her voice was sharp with frustration.“You’re an idiot.”Anton pinched the bridge of his nose. “Annika—”“No. Listen to me,” she snapped. “I’ve kept my mouth shut long enough.”Anton exhaled slowly. “I don’t have time for this.”“You don’t have time?” Annika let out a bitter laugh. “You’ve had months. And you’re wasting all of them.”Anton didn’t respond.Because he already knew where this conversation was going.He could feel it.The shift.The weight of something inevitable.And then—Annika spoke the words that shattered him.“She’s pregnant.”Silence.The kind that suffocates.The kind that crushes.Anton’s grip tightened around the phone.His breath was slow. Controlled.But inside—inside, everything was collapsing.“Say
Odette had felt it the moment she stepped outside her apartment.The weight of eyes on her.A presence lingering just out of reach.At first, she had convinced herself it was paranoia. A trick of her mind.But as the days passed, it became harder to ignore.Anton was watching her.She felt it in the way certain shadows lingered longer than they should.In the subtle hum of something just beneath the surface.In the way her instincts—so finely tuned from months of survival—refused to let her dismiss it.And yet… he never approached her.Never confronted her.He just… watched.As if waiting for something.As if waiting for her.She first noticed it at the bookstore.A small, quiet shop tucked between a bakery and a florist. She had been running errands, determined to settle into her new normal.She was reaching for a book when a shift in the air made her glance toward the entrance.Anton stood outside, across the street.His hands were in his coat pockets, his sharp gaze unreadable.He
Odette’s breath caught in her throat.Anton stood across the café, his broad frame unmistakable even from a distance. He was mid-conversation with someone, but the second their eyes met, the world tilted.She knew this feeling.The sharp pull in her chest, the way the air seemed to thin around her, the sudden weight of everything unsaid pressing down on her shoulders.Anton’s expression was unreadable.But his storm-gray eyes—they saw her.Not just physically.He saw her.For a moment, neither of them moved.Odette’s fingers tightened around the strap of her purse. Every rational thought screamed at her to walk away.She could do it.She could turn around, push open the door, and pretend this never happened.But her legs wouldn’t move.Not yet.Anton’s posture shifted, his weight moving slightly forward.A hesitation.A decision.Then, before she could react, he started toward her.Odette’s pulse spiked.Her heart slammed against her ribs, and suddenly, she wasn’t ready.Not for this.
Odette ran her fingers along the edge of the ultrasound photo, tracing the faint outline of the tiny life growing inside her.It had been a week since the scare.A week since she heard the heartbeat.A week since she had finally stopped lying to herself.She was going to be a mother.And for the first time since she found out, she let herself feel it.It was terrifying.But it was also… undeniable.She wasn’t sure when the fear started turning into something else—something quieter, something warmer.But it had.And that was enough.At least for now.She pressed the ultrasound photo between the pages of her notebook, closing it carefully before pushing it aside.Amerie walked in just as she finished, holding two cups of coffee. “Alright, I caved and smuggled this in. If they catch us, we were framed.”Odette snorted, taking the cup with a grateful nod.Amerie settled into the chair beside her. “How are you feeling?”Odette exhaled, wrapping her fingers around the cup. “Better.”It wasn
Odette wasn’t sure when she started holding her breath.Maybe it was when the dizziness hit, sharp and sudden, making the walls of her hospital room blur.Maybe it was when she pressed a hand to her stomach, her heartbeat thundering beneath her palm.Or maybe it was when the pain started—not unbearable, but deep and sharp enough to make her panic.She sucked in a slow breath, forcing herself to stay still.This was nothing.It had to be nothing.She was fine.She repeated the thought over and over, but her body didn’t believe it.The pressure in her lower abdomen twisted, sending another dull ache through her.Odette clenched the sheets, her pulse hammering.No.Not this.Her fingers shook as she reached for her phone, nearly dropping it before managing to press Amerie’s contact.It barely rang before her best friend answered.“What’s wrong?”Odette tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I—” She broke off, inhaling shakily. “I need you to come.”Amerie’s voice immediately sharpened