After I Died, He Truly Panicked

Regina’s POV

Pregnant?

I blinked. The word didn’t land right away. It hovered in the air between me and the doctor, strange and unreal, like it belonged to someone else. My heart skittered in my chest. A prickling heat crept up the back of my neck.

It was my twenty-seventh birthday. I’d come in bracing for heartbreak. I’d practiced disappointment: the brave smile, the nod, the half-hearted “maybe next time.” I hadn’t prepared for this.

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor repeated, gentler now. “Early, but viable.”

My hands shook. I pressed them against my thighs. After the hell I went through, after six months off my medication, after white-knuckling through insomnia, after crying myself hollow... I was finally going to be a mother.

I had to bite down hard on my lip to contain the sob.

“The fetus looks healthy,” the doctor said gently, flipping through my chart. Then came the pause. His brows tightened. “But Regina... you stopped your medication six months ago?”

I nodded. “I needed to.” My voice dropped. “To try for a baby.”

He set the chart down. “Without medical supervision?”

“I know it wasn’t ideal. But I’ve been fine. Mostly. I would’ve said something if I felt I was slipping,”My hand went to my abdomen on instinct. “I wanted this baby more than anything.” “Does your husband know?”

I looked away. Shame tightened around my throat like a fist. “No. Please… don’t tell him. He doesn’t know about… any of it. The meds. The diagnosis.”

Maxwell couldn’t know about my bipolar disorder and severe insomnia. Or the way my foster father abused me in ways I don’t want anyone to know. There were things I buried so deeply, even I couldn’t touch them most days.

Even to Maxwell.

Especially to Maxwell.

The doctor sighed, clearly torn, but moved on."This has to be temporary, Regina. Your mental health affects not just you, but now your child as well." I didn’t answer. My throat was thick with everything I didn’t want to admit.

He softened. “If anything changes, you come in. No waiting. Understood?”

I nodded, eyes stinging. “I will. I promise.”

When I finally left, I practically ran. Out into the air that suddenly felt too thin. Every step home was a tug-of-war, light and heavy all at once. I pressed a hand to my stomach again.

You’re here. I’ve got you now.

When I opened the front door, my pulse was still hammering. I was going to tell Maxwell. I had to.

I took a couple of steps inside before I froze as my eyes fell onto the sight awaiting me.

Maxwell with... Morgana.

Morgana used to be my friend in architecture school,  but now she was more like Maxwell’s right-hand person. I was the one who brought her into the company years ago. Slowly, she shifted from assistant to something closer, someone Maxwell trusted and relied upon. 

She was the root for all the problems Maxwell and I had, and at the moment, it seemed like she wasn’t only the root, but the entire trunk.

The two weren’t kissing or anything. They weren’t even touching. In all honesty, they didn’t have to be. The way her shoulder leaned in subtly toward him, the way his eyes softened when she laughed. He used to be like that towards me only.

From where I stood, the air between them crackled in a way that didn’t belong to casual friendships.

My pulse stuttered as a thousand alarms rang in my head.

Morgana had been around a lot lately. Too much. Ever since she joined the company and slowly started filling in for me, replacing me. And Maxwell let her. Encouraged her, even.

I swallowed thickly and straightened up my shoulders before walking up to where they both sat on the couch.

I forced a smile. “Hey,” I said gently. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

When Maxwell’s eyes met mine, his gaze darkened. I stopped short once more because I had never seen him look at me with such coldness. Was our relationship strained now?

“Pretending to care again?” he sneered as he stood up languidly, his cold eyes still locked onto mine.

I blinked. The words hit harder than I expected. “Maxwell…” I started, voice soft, “I was going to make dinner. You’ve barely eaten today, and I-”

He scoffed. “Spare me. You don’t get to play the doting wife now. That’s rich, coming from someone who vanishes for hours without a word. Always secretive. Always ‘fine.’”

I flinched. “I was at the doctor. I-”

“And I’m supposed to just believe that?” he snapped. “You only care when it’s convenient for you. When you want something.”

My chest tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is being married to someone who hides everything,” he said flatly, cutting me off again.

“Let’s not do this on her birthday,” she cooed gently, before walking over to the open kitchen counter and pouring both of us a glass of juice.

“Happy birthday,” she said, handing me one of the glasses and clinking hers against mine.

I pressed my lips together, hard. Swallowing the bitterness down, I took a sip of the juice and just as I was about to thank her–

“Congratulations,” she whispered, leaning in close, eyes filled with something I couldn’t read. “You’re about to lose your husband.”

A shudder went through my body at her words. My heart pounded and my knees went weak, but I forced myself to stand upright.

“Can you really enjoy your birthday like this?” Maxwell’s voice boomed again. His face was icy, and his eyes accusatory as he came to stand beside Morgana.

He threw a pile of pill bottles and several bags of white powder onto the floor.

“What the hell is this?” he snapped, his jaw clenched. “I come home to this? Drugs? Pills? After everything?”

I blinked, looking at the pills and powder in a daze. “What...?”

He scoffed. “Don’t lie to me, Regina. Morgana already told me everything. The drugs. The disappearing. And the money! Not just from the company, but from me. Thousands gone. You thought I wouldn’t notice?”

My mouth went dry. “Maxwell, I swear! I never-”

“Morgana tried to hide it from me to protect you,” he went on, barely looking at me, his eyes flashing with disgust. “And I wanted to believe there was some other explanation. But now?” He gestured to the mess on the floor. “You really had the nerve to bring this filth into my house.”

I stared at the mess on the floor. The pill bottles... I recognized them. My old ones. For sleep. For stability. But I had hidden them. Locked them away. I never brought them here.

And the powder? No. That wasn’t mine. That wasn’t mine!

“I-I don’t know what this is,” I stammered. “Maxwell, I didn’t-”

Morgana stepped forward, her voice low, almost pitying. “I tried to protect her reputation. But you deserve to know the truth, Maxwell. All of it.”

I turned to her, my voice trembling. “This is a setup. You’re framing me.”

She raised her brows in mock surprise. “You think I planted your pills in your own house? How exactly would I do that?”

I let out a bitter scoff, glancing between the two of them. “I wonder why,” I snapped. “She’s always here, always whispering in your ear. Or is that not all she’s been doing?”

“You don’t get to do this, Regina,” Maxwell pointed his index finger between the three of us. “Not when I have this.”

He threw his phone at me. It landed at my feet, the screen playing a video. It was of a woman. But then I looked closely and realized that it was... me. Or someone who looked too much like me. She was with another man, arms draped around his neck, mouth to his jaw, lost in the moment.

“I didn’t! Maxwell, it’s fake! That’s not me!”

“Shameless,” he spat, eyes filled with disappointment and hatred as he looked at me. “You disgust me.”

My chest tightened as the room tilted. A part of me was screaming, tell him, tell him you’re pregnant, but the words caught in my throat. My hands pressed to my belly protectively, instinctively. He wouldn’t believe me. Not now. Not like this.

Then he was on the phone, voice devoid of emotion.

“My wife has a drug abuse problem,” he said. “I need your help.”

And just like that, my world started spinning. My knees buckled, and I felt myself tilting into darkness.

Everything I fought to rebuild collapsed under the weight of lies I didn’t even recognize. 

This had never been about love. This was war.

And I had just lost the first battle.