Mag-log inEVE'S POV The coffee shop Marcus chose was quiet, tucked away in a corner of the city with soft lighting and private booths. I arrived first, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. Twenty-eight weeks pregnant now, my belly made it impossible to hide how far along I was. I kept one hand on it protectively as I slid into the booth, nerves twisting tighter with every minute that passed. I was still angry, the kind of deep, simmering anger that had replaced the sadness after days of silence. But I had agreed to this one meeting. One conversation. After that, I would decide what came next. When Damon walked in, my breath caught. He looked… wrecked. His eyes were tired, shadowed with dark circles, shoulders tense like he was carrying the weight of the world. He spotted me immediately and for a second, something raw and painful flashed across his face. He approached slowly, like he was afraid I might disappear if he moved too fast. “Eve,” he said softly as he sat do
Marcus's POV I’d had enough. Eleven weeks of this bullshit. Eleven days of Damon hiding in that penthouse like a wounded animal, and Eve staying at Jessica’s place trying to act strong while her belly kept growing and her heart kept breaking. I was tired of watching two people I loved destroy themselves because one of them couldn’t stop punishing himself. I pulled up to Jessica’s building around four in the afternoon, carrying a bag of Eve’s favorite snacks and some decaf iced tea. Jessica let me in with a tired but grateful look. “She’s on the balcony,” she said quietly. “Been out there most of the day. She’s mad now, Marcus. Really mad, the sad phase is over.” “Good,” I muttered. “Angry is better than broken.” Eve was sitting in one of the balcony chairs, feet propped up on a stool, one hand resting on her round belly. She looked beautiful even with the exhaustion written all over her face. The pregnancy had rounded her out nicely... she was probably twenty-eight weeks now ...
DAMON'S POV I sat in the therapist’s office feeling like a damn fraud. The room was nice... soft beige walls, big comfortable chairs, one of those fake plants in the corner that looked too perfect to be real. Dr. Lang was a middle-aged guy with a calm voice and kind eyes that made me want to spill my guts and run at the same time. I’d been coming for three sessions now, ever since Marcus basically dragged me here after I sent Eve away. Today felt different, heavier. “So,” Dr. Lang said, leaning back in his chair, “you told Sophia to stay out of your life for good. How did that feel?” I rubbed my hands on my jeans. They were still a little shaky. “Felt good in the moment. Like I finally slammed the door on all her bullshit. But then I went back to that empty penthouse and it hit me again... I’m the one who let her in in the first place. I’m the reason any of this happened.” Dr. Lang nodded slowly. “Tell me more about that guilt. You’ve mentioned feeling like two different men. W
DAMON'S POV The penthouse was too damn quiet. I’d been pacing the living room for the last hour like a caged animal, phone in my hand, thumb hovering over Eve’s name for the hundredth time. Nine days. Nine fucking days since I asked her to leave, and I still couldn’t bring myself to call. Every time I tried, the memories slammed into me again... signing those papers, missing her birthday, letting Sophia crawl deeper into my life while Eve sat at home wondering if our marriage was already dead. I hated myself too much to face her. So I stayed silent, like a coward. A sharp knock on the door made me freeze. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Marcus had come by yesterday and basically told me to stop being a dumbass. My parents didn’t know I’d sent Eve away yet. So who the hell... I looked through the peephole and my stomach dropped. Sophia. She was standing there in a soft cream coat, hair perfectly done, looking like she’d stepped out of a magazine. Same old Sophia. Always timing her
EVE'S POV I stood in Jessica’s kitchen at 7:15 in the morning, one hand pressed to the side of my belly while the other stirred a pot of oatmeal that I didn’t even want. Twenty-seven weeks. The doctor had said it at my last appointment, and the number still felt unreal. My belly was round and heavy now, stretching every shirt I owned, making my lower back ache by the end of the day. The baby kicked hard and often, little feet or elbows jabbing like he or she was trying to remind me I wasn’t alone in this mess. But some days I felt more alone than ever. It had been nine days since Damon asked me to leave our apartment. Nine days of sleeping in Jessica’s guest room, nine days of waking up reaching for him only to remember he wasn’t there. Nine days of radio silence. He hadn’t returned a single call. Not one text. Not even a “are you okay?” At first I was sad, heartbroken. I cried in the shower every morning so Jessica wouldn’t hear. I replayed his broken voice asking me to go, te
DAMON'S POV The penthouse felt like a fucking tomb. I stood in the middle of the living room after Eve left, the door still clicking shut in my head like it was the loudest sound I’d ever heard. The place was too quiet, too big. Too full of ghosts. I could still smell her vanilla lotion in the air, still see the little dent on the couch where she liked to curl up with her hand on her belly. Now it was just me. Alone with everything I’d done. I walked over to the big windows and stared out at the city lights, but I wasn’t really seeing them. My head was too loud. The memories weren’t coming in flashes anymore... they were just there, sitting heavy in my chest like they’d always belonged. No gaps, no blurry edges. Everything. I remembered signing those divorce papers in the hospital room. Sophia on her bed, crying those perfect fake tears, telling me Eve had pushed her. I remembered the cold certainty I felt when I picked up the pen. I hadn’t even called Eve, hadn’t given her a
Three days of texts from Sophia. Three days of her playing the scared pregnant woman who just wanted to talk, who just wanted Damon to acknowledge what was happening.Finally Damon cracked."We need to confront her," he said. "Get this out in the open, demand the paternity test and end this.""She'
Day three and I was getting used to thiswaking up slow, no alarms, no rushing, just existing Damon was already awake, I could hear him outside on the deckI found him with coffee, looking at the ocean, not his phone, not his laptop, just the ocean“Morning,” I said“Morning.” He handed me a cup. “
We drove back to the city Sunday afternoonNeither of us wanted to leave but we couldn’t hide forever. The week had been good, better than good, we’d talked and laughed and had sex on every surface in that house and figured out we actually liked each other outside of all the chaosBut now the chaos
Eve knew something was up.Damon had been acting strange for weeks, sneaking phone calls, leaving early, coming home late with weak excuses about work meetings that didn't make sense.Part of her wondered if he was having second thoughts. If the whole Sophia thing had messed with his head more than







