Regrets

~DANIEL~

I drove with no destination.

The road was blurry through my tears, but I didn’t care.

Let it crash. Let it all burn.

I was done pretending to be okay.

I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, every muscle in my jaw locked so tight it ached. My chest felt like it was caving in — sharp, suffocating, and wild.

She lied.

She looked me in the eye and told me the twins weren’t mine.

Twins.

Mine.

They had to be mine.

But I didn't know how far she's gone in the pregnancy so I could do the math.

I remembered the last night we spent together — in our room, after she recovered fully from the accident.

I remembered the way her body trembled under my hands, the way she whispered my name like it was the only word she knew.

And now?

Now she was living in a cracked-walled shoebox with another man playing husband while carrying my children.

“Leo,” I growled, slamming the steering wheel. “It’s him. It has to be him.”

My heart twisted in my chest like