Chapter 159

The moment Sophia stepped into the dimly lit hospital corridor, her pulse quickened.

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled her nostrils, sharp and unforgiving.

Her fingers trembled as she clutched the strap of her bag, her knuckles turning white.

Liam had been rushed here after the accident.

She hadn’t even been there when it happened.

Guilt twisted in her chest like a knife.

Ethan Blackwood stood by the waiting room, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw clenched.

His usually composed demeanor was shattered, replaced by raw, unchecked fear.

Their eyes met.

For a heartbeat, neither spoke.

Then, he exhaled sharply.

"He's stable," Ethan said, his voice rough.

Sophia's knees nearly gave out.

She forced herself to stay upright, gripping the nearest chair for support.

"Where is he?" she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan gestured toward the closed door down the hall.

"Room 312. They're running tests."

She didn’t wait for permission.

Her heels clicked against the linoleum as she strode forward, her heart pounding in her ears.

The door creaked open.

Liam lay on the bed, small and fragile beneath the crisp white sheets.

His face was pale, his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks.

A bandage wrapped around his forehead, stark against his skin.

Sophia’s breath hitched.

She reached out, her fingers hovering just above his hand, afraid to touch him.

Afraid he might break.

A soft sound escaped her lips.

She hadn’t realized she was crying until the first tear fell.

Then, the dam broke.

Her shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked her body.

She had failed him.

Again.

A warm hand settled on her shoulder.

Ethan.

She didn’t pull away.

For once, she let herself lean into his touch.

"We’ll figure this out," he murmured, his voice low and steady.

Sophia swallowed hard.

She wanted to believe him.

But the fear was still there, gnawing at her insides.

Because this wasn’t just an accident.

Someone had done this.

And she would make sure they paid.

This had been my greatest fear. The thought of my child seeing me through tainted eyes terrified me. I could reveal the truth, but that would paint their father as a monster—a twisted, cruel man who didn’t deserve the title of "dad."

Mom rises from her seat and moves beside me, pulling me into a warm embrace. My vision blurs as tears threaten to spill.

Damn these pregnancy hormones.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Don’t stress over it. We love you, and we’ll adore this baby just the same," Dad reassures, joining the hug.

We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms before finally pulling apart.

"Another grandbaby! This is incredible—I need to go shopping immediately!" Mom exclaims, her face lighting up with pure delight. She bounces on her toes like an overexcited teenager.

"Who else can say they became a grandmother at forty-three? I’m young, stylish, and still have the energy to chase after my grandkids!"

Dad and I exchange amused glances as Mom twirls around my living room, graceful as a dancer. Dad catches her mid-spin, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her lips before spinning her again, her laughter filling the room.

A bittersweet ache tugs at my heart as I watch them. This was the kind of love I’d once dreamed of—passionate, enduring, effortless. But I’d long since buried those fantasies. Some people weren’t destined for that kind of happiness.

They stay a little longer before finally leaving, and I exhale, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. My biggest fear—that they’d reject my child—had been put to rest. Their excitement soothed something raw inside me.

Soon, Liam arrives home, and I busy myself helping him with homework and preparing snacks. I thrive on routine, so I lay out his uniform for the next day and organize his school supplies.

Just as I finish, a sharp knock echoes through the apartment. Sighing, I shuffle to the door and pull it open.

"Sophia Sterling?" the deliveryman asks gruffly.

I wince. I really needed to change my last name. Sterling didn’t belong to me anymore.

"Yeah?"

"Got a delivery for you."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Did they think I couldn’t figure that out on my own?

"I didn’t order anything," I say flatly.

"Not my problem," he snaps.

Rude. Maybe he caught my annoyed expression. Before I can retort, he shoves a box into my hands and stalks off.

I stare after him, stunned, mentally noting the company name on his uniform. I hadn’t ordered a thing, but I’d definitely be leaving a scathing review later.

Carrying the box inside, I set it on the coffee table.

"What’s that?" Liam asks, eyeing it with curiosity.

"No idea," I mutter.

I hesitate, fingers hovering over the tape. With the Reapers still a threat, this could be anything—a bomb, a threat, a sick joke.

Before I can decide, Liam snatches the box and rips it open.

"Liam!" I gasp, my heart lurching into my throat.

If that had been a bomb, we’d both be dead. Did he have no sense of self-preservation?

"You don’t just open strange packages!" I scold, struggling to steady my racing pulse.

He shrugs. "I was curious."

Peering inside, his face twists in disappointment. "Ugh. I thought it’d be something cool. It’s just a bunch of dresses."

Wait—what?

I grab the box from him and pull out the contents. One by one, I unfold delicate maternity dresses—each one from the boutique I’d loved before everything went wrong with Ethan.

My stomach drops.

Ethan. That bastard must have bought them.

"Pretty dresses, Mommy. You’ll look beautiful," Liam says cheerfully, oblivious to the fury simmering inside me.

The thought of burning them crosses my mind.