MasukDear Reader,Thank you. Truly.Thank you for taking the time to read this story, for following these characters through all their chaos, heartache, healing, and love. Whether you devoured it in one weekend or savored it slowly chapter by chapter, I’m so grateful you came on this journey with me.I poured so much of myself into writing this book—every twist, every sigh, every kiss, every moment of grit and grace. And knowing it reached you means the world.If you enjoyed this story, I’d be incredibly thankful if you could take just a moment to leave a rating and review. It might seem small, but it helps so much in getting the book into the hands of new readers. Every star, every word, every comment counts—and I read every single one.Don’t forget to follow me here on GoodNovel so you never miss a new release. I’ve got more stories coming your way, full of fire, feels, and unforgettable love.Currently, I have two other exclusive books on GoodNovel you can dive into right now:🐺 The Ban
BethThe smell of grilled corn and smoked ribs drifted on the summer air, mingling with the squeals of kids chasing bubbles across the backyard.Crystal’s youngest—Chelsea—was already halfway up the treehouse with her older brother, Zack, shouting warnings below her. Lily was belly-laughing in her daddy’s lap like someone had just told her the funniest joke in the universe. And BJ—my BJ—was standing proudly at the grill with his father, using tongs that were clearly too big for his hands but not his confidence.“This one’s almost done,” he said, pointing to a chicken thigh with the air of a future surgeon.Stacy gave a solemn nod. “Doctor approved.”I eased back onto the picnic bench, rubbing the side of my belly. Still three months to go, but this boy? He was a kicker. Just like his brother. And apparently his brother before him if that chaos in my ribs was any indication.Rachel flopped down beside me with an exaggerated groan, her own very-much-twin-packed belly resting like a smal
BethThe hospital room was warm. Quiet.The lights were dimmed, the monitor beside my bed blinking in lazy rhythms. Somewhere down the hall, a nurse laughed. The world kept turning.But mine had stopped.Right here.Right now.Right in the curve of my arm where my son—our son—slept like he hadn’t just made the most dramatic entrance in hospital history.He was perfect.Ten fingers. Ten toes. A pouty little mouth that already knew how to scowl like his father. And hair—soft, dark, and impossibly thick. His eyes had barely opened yet, but when they had, I’d seen it.All the fight.All the light.All the love I didn’t know I had to give until he took it with a single breath.Stacy was asleep in the recliner beside me, head tilted back, mouth slightly open. He still had a smear of blood on his shirt and the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that only comes from catching your own child like a fucking superhero.I smiled.Then I looked down at the baby again.We hadn’t named him yet. Not officia
BethI was still processing the words your water just broke when the door to the exam room creaked open behind us.Adam stepped out, clipboard in hand—and immediately paused.His gaze dropped to the puddle forming beneath my feet, then traveled up to my face, which probably looked like I’d just seen the Grim Reaper holding a diaper bag.“Your timing is bullshit,” I told him flatly, jabbing a finger in his direction. “This is your fault.”His brows shot up. “My fault?”Adam didn’t miss a beat. He pointed right back at Stacy. “He’s the one that put the baby in you! So maybe redirect that rage to the dick responsible.““You’re the one that said, ‘I’ll see you next week if you make it that far!’” I snapped. “I didn’t even make it ten goddamn steps! I barely made it past the stirrups!”Adam started laughing. Loud, unbothered, arms spread wide like he’d just nailed a punchline at a stand-up show.“Well, what can I say?” he grinned. “The kid’s got a flair for dramatic exits. But hey—you’re f
BethThe crinkling of the paper sheet beneath me was the only sound in the room.I shifted my hips slightly, adjusting the paper drape over my lap for the third time, even though it didn’t matter. I was already bare from the waist down. Already stretched out on the exam table like some overripe melon waiting to be prodded.Pregnancy glamour at its peak.The room was quiet, cool, and familiar by now. The framed ultrasound prints on the wall. The faint scent of sanitizer and lavender. The hum of fluorescent lights overhead.My OB was my husband’s best friend.My feet were in stirrups.And I was officially 37 weeks pregnant.Time to start the weekly countdown.There was a light knock before the door cracked open. “It’s just me,” Adam’s voice called out as he stepped inside, eyes respectfully fixed on his tablet until the door clicked shut behind him. “How are we doing today, mama?”“Uncomfortable,” I said flatly. “Sleep is a myth. Breathing is a struggle. And peeing is now a full-time jo
BethI didn’t realize I was holding my breath until the gavel hit the block.“Miss Hart is hereby sentenced to six years in state prison,” the judge announced, “with eligibility for parole no sooner than year five, contingent upon behavior, rehabilitation benchmarks, and the completion of mandatory counseling for sexual assault perpetrators.”Six years.It wasn’t long enough.But it wasn’t nothing.Stacy’s fingers threaded through mine, grounding me in the echoing silence that followed. Whitney didn’t look at us. She hadn’t looked at us once since walking in. She sat still in her chair, hands folded tightly in her lap, lips pressed into a straight, bloodless line.Only when the judge thanked her for cooperating with law enforcement did I see it.A flicker.Not remorse. Not shame.Relief.She’d saved herself.Not us.The bailiff moved to escort her out, chains clinking faintly. That’s when she finally turned her head. Her eyes landed on Stacy for just a second. Something unreadable pas




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