Chapter 129

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Sophia stirred awake.

Her phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand.

She reached for it, squinting at the screen.

A message from Daniel.

"We need to talk. It's urgent."

Her stomach twisted.

She hadn’t heard from him in days—not since the night everything had unraveled.

Swallowing hard, she typed a reply.

"Where?"

The response came instantly.

"The old diner. Noon."

Sophia exhaled sharply.

That diner held memories—some sweet, some bitter.

She glanced at the clock.

Three hours.

Enough time to prepare herself.

The shower did little to ease the tension coiled in her shoulders.

Hot water pounded against her skin, but her thoughts refused to settle.

What could Daniel possibly want now?

Had he found something?

Or was this just another game?

She shut off the water with a sharp twist of the knob.

Wrapping herself in a towel, she caught her reflection in the fogged mirror.

Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

She looked exhausted.

Liam was already at the breakfast table when she entered the kitchen.

"Morning, Mom!"

His cheerful voice was a balm to her frayed nerves.

"Morning, sweetheart."

She pressed a kiss to his tousled hair before pouring herself coffee.

"Are you okay?" Liam asked, studying her face.

Sophia forced a smile.

"Just tired."

Liam frowned but didn’t push.

He knew better than most when she needed space.

The drive to the diner was tense.

Every red light felt like a taunt.

Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

What does he know?

What does he want?

The diner’s neon sign flickered as she pulled into the parking lot.

Daniel was already there.

He sat in their usual booth, hands wrapped around a coffee cup.

His expression was unreadable.

Sophia took a steadying breath before stepping inside.

The bell above the door chimed.

Daniel’s gaze snapped to hers.

No smile.

No warmth.

Just cold, hard resolve.

"Sophia."

Her name sounded like an accusation.

She slid into the seat across from him.

"Daniel."

Silence stretched between them.

Then he pushed a manila envelope across the table.

"Open it."

Her pulse spiked.

She hesitated before reaching for it.

The contents spilled out—photographs.

Her breath caught.

Ethan.

Liam.

Her.

All taken without their knowledge.

Surveillance.

Her hands trembled.

"Who—?"

Daniel’s voice was grim.

"Someone’s watching you, Sophia. And they’re not playing nice."

The air left her lungs.

This wasn’t just a warning.

It was a threat.

And it was far from over.

The moment the thought flickers through my mind, another one slams into me like a freight train.

"You're here to tell me you don’t want the baby and are getting an abortion, aren’t you?" My voice is rigid, every muscle in my body tensing as if bracing for impact.

Sophia’s head snaps up, her brown eyes blazing with fire. For a heartbeat, I see the woman she was becoming before I shattered her. The fighter. The survivor.

"Why the hell would you think that?" she snaps. "I won’t lie—when I first found out, I wasn’t in the right headspace. I thought… maybe it’d be better if this baby wasn’t born. But I came to my senses."

A shuddering breath escapes me. If she had said she didn’t want our child, I don’t know what I would’ve done. The mere idea claws at my chest.

"I came because I wanted to know what you want," she continues, her voice steadier now. "I know you don’t care about me, but maybe you’d care about the baby. Do you want to be part of their life?"

I don’t answer immediately. The weight of the question presses down on me.

"No."

The word tastes like ash. It hurts, but it’s the truth. This child deserves better than a father like me—a monster who destroyed the woman carrying them.

Sophia goes still. Then, without a word, she stands, grabbing her bag. My head drops, hiding the agony twisting inside me.

She takes a step toward the door—then stops. Turns. Sits back down.

"Why?" she demands. "Is it because I was just some pawn to you?"

"What can I possibly offer them, Sophia? I’m in prison. By the time I get out, our child will be grown. I’ll miss everything—first steps, first words, every damn milestone. And who would want a father who did what I did to their mother?" My voice cracks. I need her to understand.

Silence stretches between us. I think I’ve gotten through to her.

Then she surprises me.

"I know all that," she says softly. "But you’re still their father. Prison doesn’t change that. You can still be part of their life, Ethan. I’ll make sure of it. You don’t have to miss a single moment. This baby deserves to know you. And they’ll love you—despite your mistakes. But you have to choose to be there."

My throat tightens. "You’d really bring them here? For visits?"

"Yes."

I stare at her, stunned. Sophia is… extraordinary. How the hell did I ever deserve her? How did Daniel resist falling for her all those years?

"Thank you," I whisper, emotion thick in my voice.

She nods, standing again. "I should go. But I’ll be in touch. After my next appointment, I’ll update you. Until then… here."

She slides a small envelope across the table. Inside is an ultrasound image. It takes me a second to process what I’m seeing.

I’m not a man who cries. But damn if my vision doesn’t blur.

"I care about you," I say abruptly, before she can leave.

She freezes. Turns. "W-what?"

"I’ll regret it forever if you walk out without hearing this." I drag in a breath. "I love you, Sophia. I don’t know when it happened. Or how. But I do. With everything I am."

Her breath catches. Tears glisten in her eyes. "It’s too late for that," she whispers.

"I know. I ruined everything. But it doesn’t change how I feel."

"I saw a future with you," she admits, voice trembling. "It was so real. I was falling for you, Ethan. I was ready to give you every broken piece of me. And you destroyed it."

I stand abruptly, the pain too much to bear. I had no idea she felt that way. That she was close to loving me.

The realization guts me.

Because of my own idiocy, I’ll never be the father my child deserves. Because of my choices, I lost the woman who could’ve been my everything.

"Will you ever forgive me?" I ask, voice raw.

"Maybe someday. But not today."

Before I can second-guess myself, I pull her into my arms and kiss her like it’s the last time.

Because it is.

This kiss is goodbye. And deep down, I know—I’ve lost her for good.