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CHAPTER THIRTY–ONE
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2025-08-04 20:04:37
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The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
#Rico’s POV#She was just sitting there.On the cold tile floor, her knees tucked up to her chest and her back slumped against the tub. Her eyes were open but dead. Staring at something on the ground I couldn’t even see. I had pushed her door gently at first, just enough to peek, but when I didn’t see her in bed, panic had cracked through my ribs like glass. That was what led me to the bathroom, that gut feeling, that instinct that something wasn’t right.And God, it wasn’t.There was no blood this time, thank God. At least not like last night. Was I scared when I walked into that bathroom last night? Hell yeah. She was bleeding. Shaking. There was hair on the floor. Mirror smashed. But I didn’t see her as broken. I saw her as someone trying to survive the intensity of something no one prepares for. Cancer isn’t soft. It chews you. And she’s still standing. Still breathing. I just wish she could see what I see. Give herself a little grace. But something was bleeding. Inside her. I s
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
#Dorothy’s POV#It’s quiet now. Too quiet. I remember hearing something earlier; muffled voices from the floor above. Something that sounded like a crash, or a door slamming. But I didn’t check. I didn’t want to check. My body’s too tired, my chest's too tight, and my head is way too sore from everything that happened today.Instead, I did what Rico told me. I drank water. I took a warm shower. I let myself rest. Because for once, I didn’t want to think. Not about Joel. Not about Rico. Not about anything. I pulled the covers up to my chin, exhaled slowly, and tried to forget that I exist.The last thing I remember before falling asleep was the sound of the AC vent and the taste of metal at the back of my throat.#•#Something’s wet on my face.And not from tears this time.I blink slowly, eyes struggling to focus. My head’s pounding, my stomach's queasy, and my body aches in places I didn’t even know could ache. It takes a second to realize my pillow feels oddly damp, warm even, and t
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
#Rico’s POV#Sometimes Rico feels like his life isn’t his anymore.Not his body. Not his hours. Not his thoughts. Not even his heartbeat.It’s all tied to someone who doesn’t belong to him.He’s sitting in the car with Dorothy still in his arms, and he doesn’t even realize they’ve been parked in front of the villa for almost three minutes now. He’s just… holding her. Because she passed out in the elevator, and he carried her down without a second thought, and somewhere along the way, he forgot that he wasn’t supposed to care this much.He forgot that this isn’t Paulina.He forgot that he’s not her husband.He forgot that he’s not supposed to feel so damn responsible.“Rico,” she murmurs, stirring against him. “You can put me down now. I can walk. I’m not dizzy anymore.”He blinks, startled. Then glances down. He hadn’t even noticed she was awake. “Shit, sorry,” he says.He gently shifts her off his lap and helps her sit upright. Her skin is still pale but her eyes are clearer.He open
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER THIRTY–ONE
#Dorothy’s POV#I don't want to think about last night.Or the kiss.Or Joel’s stare.Or the blankness in his eyes when he walked away without a word like my body wasn’t a crime scene and Rico wasn’t the evidence that could make it all make sense again.I don’t want to think.I just want to function.I slowly stir my tea in the villa kitchen, the spoon clinking against the ceramic mug. My fingers are numb. My lips feel dry. I haven’t been able to stomach anything since dinner two nights ago, and even now, my stomach curls at the idea of food.Today is the day.Chemo.The beginning of whatever this godawful journey is going to be.I don’t even know if I should be scared. Am I scared? Maybe. I think I am. But I’m also tired. Tired of wondering if I’ll live or die. Tired of thinking about what this is going to do to my body, my bones, my brain, my breath. Tired of guessing if my hair will fall out on the third round or the fifth. Tired of thinking of babies and how this poison in my vein
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER THIRTY
#Dorothy’s POV#I wake up to warmth.Not from the blanket. But from the heartbeat under my cheek.My lashes flutter, heavy and wet, and it takes me a second to realize I haven’t cried again. My face is just stuck to Rico’s chest. It’s early—barely light out—the greyish dawn light streams in through the thick curtains like a held whisper. His chest rises and falls, steadily. His scent fills my lungs. That faint cologne, a trace of sweat, and something else I don't know the name of… but I remember. The same scent from the clinic parking lot, from the night I kissed him. From the day he carried me, from the night he stayed.I don’t move. Not even an inch.I just breathe.God, how long has it been since I’ve felt safe enough to do this?To close my eyes and not be worried something would crawl over me in the dark? Or that someone would unzip his pants beside me and tell me “It’s time”?I listen to Rico’s heartbeat for minutes. It's calm. It's even. It's unbothered. No heaviness. No errati
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
#Rico’s POV#Fuck Joel.Like really—fuck that entitled, manipulative, pathetic-ass bastard.I’m pacing the hallway now, barefoot, heart punching my chest like it’s got something to prove. I can still hear the echo of his voice in my head, still feel the tension in my arms from where I yanked him off her. If I stayed there another second, I would’ve broken something. Probably his jaw. Or maybe his whole fucking neck.What the hell would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there? Would Joel have actually forced himself on her? Is that what he’s been doing this whole time? For two goddamn years?And the way he grabbed her? Held her like… like she was property. His thing. He looked her in the eye like she owed him something. Like that wedding band meant ownership. Like if he shouted long enough, she’d lie back and open her legs out of loyalty or fear. And the fact that this isn’t new to her? That this wasn’t a surprise? That’s what guts me.If I hadn’t been there—I swallow hard.If I hadn’t be
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