Chapter 18: Dew of Regrets

Leon stood in the center of Stephanie’s empty apartment, the silence gnawing at him. The space felt hollow, stripped of the warmth she’d once brought to it. Her lavender-scented candles were gone. The photos of sunsets she’d tacked to the fridge had vanished. All that remained was a single coffee mug in the sink, a ghost of her presence. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his gray eyes scanning the room for the hundredth time, as if she might materialize if he stared hard enough.

He hadn’t meant to come here. But after three weeks of her absence, the weight of his mistakes had driven him to her doorstep. He knelt beside the trash bin, sifting through discarded takeout containers and crumpled receipts, his throat tightening when his fingers brushed against a small plastic bottle. He pulled it out, squinting at the label. *Prenatal vitamins*. The words punched through him like a blade.

A memory flashed—Stephanie’s breathless laugh the morning after their one-night stand, her cheeks flushed as she’d scrambled to dress. He’d accused her of scheming, of trapping him. Now, the bottle trembled in his hand. *How far along was she?* His mind raced. Had she been planning to tell him? Or had she been too afraid?

“Damn it,” he muttered, crushing the bottle in his fist. He stumbled to his feet, his polished shoes scuffing the floor as he paced. The walls seemed to close in, the truth suffocating him. He’d driven her away. *Again*.

---

The coastal town’s salt-kissed air whipped through Stephanie’s hair as she stepped onto the rickety porch of her rented cottage. The tiny home was a far cry from Leon’s penthouse, with its chipped paint and creaky floors, but it was hers. *Safe*. She pressed a hand to her still-flat stomach, nausea churning as she fumbled with the keys.

“Let me,” Jake said, appearing behind her. He took the keys, his shoulder brushing hers. His presence was steady, reliable—a stark contrast to Leon’s stormy unpredictability.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she said, though her voice lacked bite.

“And miss the chance to annoy you daily?” He grinned, pushing the door open. “Think of me as your personal security guard. Unpaid, tragically handsome, and—”

“*Unnecessary*,” she finished, stepping inside. The cottage was sparse, but sunlight streamed through the windows, painting the walls gold. She sank onto the couch, exhaustion weighing her bones.

Jake’s smile faded. He set a grocery bag on the counter, pulling out ginger tea and crackers. “For the morning sickness,” he said quietly.

She looked away, tears pricking her eyes. “Why are you doing this? Helping me?”

He hesitated, his gaze lingering on her face. “Because you deserve better than hiding.”

---

Leon stormed into Adriana’s penthouse, the prenatal vitamin bottle still clutched in his hand. She lounged on a velvet sofa, a glass of wine in hand, her smirk sharp enough to cut.

“You knew,” he snarled.

Adriana arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Knew what, darling? That your little secretary was playing house with you?”

“She’s *pregnant*.” The word tore out of him, raw and ragged.

Adriana’s laugh was icy. “And here I thought you’d finally grown a spine. Still letting women manipulate you, Leon? First me, now her.”

He lunged forward, gripping her wrist. The glass shattered on the floor. “You told me you’d come back. That all I had to do was make her jealous. Was any of it *real*?”

She yanked free, her almond eyes glinting. “You were always a means to an end. But you?” She sneered. “You fell for your own game. Pathetic.”

Leon stepped back, disgust curdling in his gut. “Stay away from me. From *her*. If you so much as whisper her name—”

“Or what?” She tilted her head, mockingly sweet. “You’ll ruin me? You already did that when you chose a *nobody* over me.”

He turned, slamming the door behind him.

---

Stephanie stared at the grainy ultrasound image, her thumb tracing the tiny blur on the screen. *A girl*, the nurse had said. A daughter who’d never know her father. The thought carved a hole in her chest.

A knock jolted her. Jake stood in the doorway, holding a paper bag. “Brought dinner. And before you argue—”

“I’m not hungry.”

He set the bag down, his expression softening. “You’re eating for two, remember?”

She folded the ultrasound into her pocket, avoiding his gaze. “I can’t keep relying on you.”

“You’re not.” He crouched in front of her, his voice low. “But let someone care about you, Steph. Even if it’s just me.”

Her breath hitched. For a heartbeat, she let herself imagine it—a life here, with Jake. Simple. Safe. But then Leon’s face flickered in her mind, his cold dismissal, his hands on Adriana.

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

He stood, nodding. “I’ll go. But I’m staying in town. However long you need.”

---

Leon’s voicemail echoed through the dark emptiness of his penthouse.

*“Stephanie… I know you’ll never hear this. But I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry. Come home. Please.”*

He hurled his phone at the wall, the screen shattering. Across the room, his security chief cleared his throat. “Sir, we’ve hit a dead end. Her trail… it’s gone. Like someone erased it.”

Leon stilled. “*Jake*.”

---

Stephanie wiped down the hotel lobby’s front desk, her back aching. The boutique hotel was quiet, the off-season lull giving her too much time to think. Her coworker, Mara, eyed her from across the room.

“You’ve been here a month, and I still don’t know a thing about you,” Mara said, leaning on the counter.

Stephanie forced a smile. “Not much to know.”

“Uh-huh.” Mara’s gaze dropped to Stephanie’s stomach. “You know, if you ever need help—”

A sudden cramp twisted through Stephanie’s abdomen. She gripped the counter, her vision blurring.

“Sarah?” Mara’s voice wavered. “You okay?”

Stephanie opened her mouth to answer, but the world tilted. She crumpled to the floor, a wet warmth seeping through her jeans.

*No. No, no, no—*

“Jake!” Mara screamed.

Footsteps pounded. Strong arms lifted her. Jake’s face swam above hers, panic etched in his features.

“Stay with me,” he begged, sprinting toward the door.

Stephanie clutched her stomach, a sob tearing from her throat. *Please, not her. Not now.*

As the car sped toward the hospital, Jake’s voice broke through the haze. “You’re not alone, Steph. I promise.”

But all she could think of was the ultrasound in her pocket.

And the blood staining her hands.