LOGINIsabella’s POVThe door flew open harder than I intended, the sound slamming against the wall and echoing down the hallway. I didn’t slow down. My chest felt tight, like something was pressing in from the inside. The word wouldn’t leave my head.Adopted.It didn’t fit. It didn’t sit right. It kept pushing against everything I thought I knew about this house, about us, about him.I took the stairs too fast, my hand brushing the railing just to steady myself. The house felt different on the way down. Voices drifted from the living room. My mom’s soft tone, Victor’s deeper one. Normal. Calm.I stepped into the room, both of them turned at the same time. My mom’s face changed first, her expression tightening with concern as her eyes moved over me. “Isabella? What’s wrong?”Victor straightened slightly in his seat, watching me with a sharper focus. “You look upset. What happened?”I stopped a few steps into the room, my hands still clenched at my sides. I could feel my pulse in my fingers,
Isabella’s POVClaire didn’t speak beside me, but I could feel her watching, waiting to see what I would do.Lucas stepped closer. “Then tell me.”My chest tightened. “Can we go upstairs?” I asked.His eyes held mine for a second, searching, then he nodded. “Yeah.”I didn’t wait. I turned and headed for the stairs, aware of him following behind me, steady, unhurried. Each step felt heavier than the last, like I was dragging the truth with me, like it was resisting being brought into the open.By the time we got to my room, my pulse was loud in my ears. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. He came in after me, and the soft click of the door closing sounded final in a way that made my stomach twist.Lucas leaned back against it, arms loose at his sides, watching me carefully. “You’re making this worse by dragging it out.”“I know,” I said, my voice thinner than I intended.“Then say it.”I moved a little farther into the room, stopping near the bed, my hands restless, brushing aga
Isabella’s POVI left before he could say anything else. The motel air followed me outside, clinging to my skin, or maybe that was just the weight of everything he had said. My steps felt uneven, like my body hadn’t quite caught up with my mind. Say it’s mine. I got into the car and sat there for a while without starting it. My hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers still, but inside, everything felt loud. Marcus’s voice. Claire’s voice. Lila’s voice. Who do you love? That question pressed harder now, like it had followed me here and settled into the passenger seat beside me, refusing to leave.I started the car anyway.The drive blurred. I passed familiar streets without seeing them, my thoughts folding into each other, replaying moments, rearranging them, trying to force clarity out of something that refused to be simple. Every time I leaned toward one answer, another thought cut through it. Every time I reached for one name, another face surfaced.By the time I got back to the
Isabella’s POVThe motel smelled faintly of something stale, something lived-in and forgotten, and it made my stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with the pregnancy. Or maybe it did. I stood at his door longer than I should have, staring at the chipped paint like it could give me an answer. My mind kept circling the same thought…you can still leave, but my hand had already lifted, already knocked before I could listen to it.The sound echoed louder than expected. The door opened almost immediately.Marcus.His face shifted the second he saw me…surprise, then something warmer, something that made my chest tighten because it wasn’t complicated. Not like everything else.“Isabella?”I didn’t answer right away. I just stood there, taking him in like I needed to confirm he was real, like I hadn’t imagined coming here.“You’re really here,” he said, stepping aside quickly. “Come in.”I walked past him, aware of how close we were even in that brief moment, the brush of air, the fa
Isabella’s POVThe room didn’t just go quiet—it tightened. Like the walls had shifted a little closer, pressing against my chest until breathing itself felt like work.Lila’s question still hung there.Who is the father?My fingers curled into the bedsheet, twisting the fabric without me realizing it. My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears, drowning out everything else. I tried to swallow, but my throat felt dry.“I’m not… completely sure.” The words came out before I could dress them up, soften them, or hide them behind something safer.For a second, neither of them reacted.Then Claire’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and disbelieving. “What?”Lila didn’t speak. She just stared at me, her expression slowly shifting from confusion to something much closer to shock.I pushed myself up against the pillows, ignoring the way my head protested, the faint dizziness that came with it. This was worse than the nausea. Worse than the weakness. This was something I cou
Isabella’s POV Claire rubbed my back gently. “I know. None of us planned any of this. But you are not alone in it. We will handle it step by step. First, you need real rest. The couch is not enough.”She stood and held out her hand. I took it. My legs felt shaky as we went up the stairs. Every step made my stomach twist again, but the medicine helped a little. Claire kept talking softly the whole way.“Remember when we were kids and everything felt too big?” she said. “You would hide under the blankets and I would sit there with you until you felt better. This is like that. Only bigger. A baby. Our family is already so broken from the scandals and Camilla. Maybe this is something good coming out of the mess.”I nodded but did not trust my voice. In my room she pulled the covers back and helped me into bed. She fluffed the pillow behind my head and sat on the edge. Her hand stayed on mine.“Tell me what you are really thinking,” she said. “Not just scared. All of it.”I looked at the







