Chapter 88

My fingers drum against the clinic bench as I wait for Sophia. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air, but all I can focus on is the ticking clock. She’s going to be furious—I know it. But this gnawing need to be here, to stand by her, won’t let me stay away.

She’d deliberately kept her next appointment date from me. Typical Sophia. So, I did what I do best: took matters into my own hands. Some might call it overbearing. I call it necessary.

The memory of my first time being this nervous slams into me. Thirteen years old, fumbling in the backseat of my dad’s car, clueless and embarrassingly quick. The girl had glared at me like I’d committed a crime.

The clinic door swings open, snapping me back to the present.

"Ethan?" Sophia’s voice is sharp, laced with disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I turn, and my breath stutters.

Sunlight spills through the windows, catching the gold flecks in her brown eyes. She’s wearing a simple blue dress that hugs her curves, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. No makeup, just faint shadows under her eyes from sleepless nights. And yet—she’s breathtaking.

Isabella would’ve spent an hour contouring her face before stepping out. Sophia? She just exists, and it’s enough to unravel me.

"I told you I wouldn’t miss this," I say, standing.

Her jaw tightens. Storm clouds gather in her gaze. She’s seconds from unleashing hell—

So I cut her off.

My hand cups her cheek, pulling her close before she can protest. My lips brush her forehead, lingering longer than necessary. Her skin is warm, soft. She freezes, her breath hitching.

For a heartbeat, it’s just us. No past. No pain. Just this.

Then she shoves me back, eyes blazing. "What the hell was that?"

I smirk. "Felt like it."

Before she can retaliate, a nurse calls her name. Sophia shoots me a glare that could melt steel and storms off. I follow, my gaze locked on the sway of her hips.

Inside the exam room, Dr. Bennett greets us warmly. "Sophia! And Mr. Blackwood—good to see you both."

Sophia forces a smile. I nod, my attention snagging on the ultrasound machine. This doctor delivered Liam. Now she’ll bring our second child into the world. The thought twists something in my chest.

Sophia changes into a gown, then lies back on the table. Dr. Bennett explains the transvaginal scan first, and my stomach knots. "Is there a problem?"

"Routine check," the doctor assures. "Just ensuring everything’s healthy."

I watch as Sophia tenses, her fingers gripping the edges of the table. My gut churns. I should’ve been there for Liam’s appointments. Should’ve known.

When the scan finishes, Dr. Bennett smiles. "Everything looks perfect. Much smoother than your first pregnancy."

My head snaps up. "What happened the first time?"

Sophia sits up abruptly. "It doesn’t matter."

"Like hell it doesn’t."

Dr. Bennett hesitates, but Sophia cuts in, her voice brittle. "Drop it, Ethan."

I don’t.

Her composure cracks.

"You want to know?" she snaps, eyes glistening. "I was eighteen. Alone. Scared. My blood pressure spiked constantly. Your family hated me. You hated me. Dr. Bennett warned me my baby might not survive because I was so stressed." Her voice breaks. "But hey, Liam’s fine now, right? So who cares?"

The words gut me.

She grabs her things and bolts. I chase her to the parking lot, my chest burning.

"Sophia—"

"Save it," she spits, yanking her car door open. "You don’t get to play the concerned husband now."

The engine roars to life. Tires screech as she peels away.

I stand there, fists clenched, the weight of my failures crushing me.

My phone rings. It’s Vanessa, my new secretary. "The Shanghai investors arrived early. They’re demanding a meeting."

"Tell them to wait or get out." I hang up, still staring at the empty road.

Sophia’s right.

I don’t get to pretend now.

But damn if I won’t try.