Chapter 87

Lila’s POV

The silence after his question was unbearable.

“Is the child mine?”

It echoed in the quiet room, louder than the steady beep of the monitor, louder than the frantic drumming of my own heart.

I opened my mouth, but my throat closed. The words stuck like broken glass. I could feel his eyes burning into me, demanding, waiting, daring me to lie.

Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to reach for him, to soften the sharpness in his gaze, but my body felt too heavy, pinned to the bed by the weight of the moment.

Finally, the truth clawed its way out, trembling and fragile.

“Yes.”

It was barely more than a whisper. But it was enough.

“Yes, Drew… you’re the father.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. His expression didn’t change, but the muscle near his jaw ticked once, then again. His hands, balled at his sides, opened and closed like he was trying to stop them from shaking.

Then, slowly, he drew in a breath, sharp and uneven. He stepped back once, as if the distance would give him control.

It didn’t.

Because a heartbeat later, his composure snapped.

“I can't believe this.” The words fell like a curse. He spun away, pacing the length of the room. His strides were long, restless, his fingers raking through his hair until it stood on end. He turned again, eyes blazing. “You carried my child and said nothing. Nothing, Lila!”

The sharpness of his tone sliced through me.

“You stood by my side for weeks, helping me plan, building my vision with me, sharing my space like…” He stopped, dragging in a breath. “Like I could trust you. And the whole time, you kept this from me.”

“Drew…” My voice broke, raw and desperate.

“Don’t,” he snapped, holding up a hand, his voice cutting like steel. “Don’t you dare try to cut in right now.”

He resumed pacing, his steps quick and jagged, like he couldn’t contain the storm inside him. His chest rose and fell too fast, and his voice cracked, not from weakness but from the weight of anger he could no longer contain.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you even understand what it means to keep my child away from me? You didn’t just hide it, Lila. You erased me from a part of my own life. You decided I didn’t deserve to know!”

His words slammed into me, one after another, like blows I couldn’t block. I swallowed against the knot in my throat, my chest heaving.

“It’s not like that. I wasn’t…”

“It’s exactly like that!” His voice thundered, filling the small hospital room. He slammed his palm against the wall, the sound ricocheting, making me flinch. “I opened myself up to you. I told you about my past, about the child I lost and you stood there, nodding, looking at me with those eyes, while holding on to this? Knowing what it would mean to me?”

Tears pricked at my eyes. “I was going to tell you.”

“When?” He cut me off again, his tone sharper and crueler. “When it was already too late? When you had no choice? Or were you planning to keep it until I found out some other way, like this?” He gestured wildly, as if the sterile walls were mocking him.

Something inside me cracked.

“Stop it.” My voice rose, sharp with anger I hadn’t known I had left. My palms trembled against the sheets, but I forced myself upright, ignoring the pain searing through my body.

His head snapped toward me, but I didn’t stop.

“What did you expect me to do, Drew? Run into your office with tears in my eyes, begging you to care? After you rejected me? After you made it perfectly clear that what we shared meant nothing to you?”

The air thickened between us, heavy, hot.

“You pushed me away like I was disposable, like I was a mistake you regretted the second it was over. And you think I should have trusted you with this? You think I should have put myself and this baby at your mercy when you already broke me once?”

My voice cracked on the last word, but I didn’t back down. The truth came tumbling out, raw and sharp.

“I wasn’t protecting myself from you because I wanted to hurt you. I did it because it was the only way I knew how to survive. Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to be alone in this? To carry something so huge, so life-changing, and have no one to turn to?”

His breathing had gone ragged, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes flickered with anger, yes, but something else too. Hurt. There was so much hurt in his eyes that it nearly broke me.

For a long, tense moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice dropped, quieter, lower, but sharper than anything he had said before.

“If I hadn’t opened up to you, if I hadn’t told you about my past, were you ever going to tell me?”

The question gutted me.

I opened my mouth, but the words refused to come. My throat tightened, my lips trembling around silence.

“Answer me, Lila.”

I choked on a breath, tears streaming down my face.

Before I could force an answer, his next question came like a blade to the chest.

“Does Max know?”

The world tilted.

My stomach knotted, my breath stuttered. I froze. My face betrayed me before I could even speak.

His eyes narrowed, the realization hitting him like a hammer.

“Of course, Max already knew about my own child before me.” he muttered bitterly, his voice dripping with venom. He stepped back, shaking his head like the very sight of me repulsed him.

“Drew…wait. Please. It’s not what you think” My voice broke as I reached toward him, desperation in every syllable.

He didn’t move closer. Didn’t soften.

He turned sharply, his back to me, shoulders rigid. His fists clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling like he was holding back something explosive.

“Drew, please listen.”

But he wasn’t listening. Or maybe he couldn’t.

He strode to the door, his steps heavy and final.

The panic ripped through me. My heart thundered as I cried out, “Don’t walk away from me Drew!”

He stopped for half a second, his hand on the door. His head bowed as though he was fighting a war inside himself.

But then he pulled the door open and stepped through.

The slam vibrated through the room, louder than the monitor, louder than my breathing.

And I was left in the silence, my chest heaving, my cheeks wet, with nothing but the hollow ache of knowing I had just shattered whatever fragile thing had been building between us.