The Woman in Room 59

Elara

I stared at my phone for another minute before I made my decision. I was going to the hotel.

Maybe I was being foolish. Maybe Roman had made the reservation before I told him about dinner at home, and when I changed our plans, he simply forgot to cancel it. Maybe he went there because he thought I would meet him.

He had never given me a reason to doubt him. Not once.

I headed upstairs and changed into another red dress. The one Roman had bought me last Christmas. It was one of my favorites. I fastened the diamond necklace he gave me on our third anniversary around my neck, then slipped the ultrasound picture and the tiny white baby shoes into my handbag.

If Roman really was waiting for me, I wanted tonight to be perfect.

I wanted to walk into that room, surprise him with the pregnancy, and laugh about how badly we had misunderstood each other.

I needed that to be true more than anything.

By the time I reached the Shadowtown Hotel, my hands were freezing. I stepped inside and walked toward the reception desk.

"Good evening," the receptionist smiled politely.

"Good evening. I have a reservation under the Blackwood name."

She checked her computer. "Yes, ma’am. Room fifty-nine, second floor."

I breathed easier.

Then she added, "The reservation is for two. They’re already upstairs."

My heart gave one hard, painful beat.

"I’m his wife." The words left my mouth before I could stop them. "I need to see him."

The receptionist’s expression shifted slightly, but she remained rigidly professional. "Of course, ma’am. Room fifty-nine."

"Thank you."

I turned toward the elevators. Every step felt heavier than the last. The doors parted, and I stepped inside. As the elevator rose, I stared at my reflection in the polished metal doors.

Red dress. Diamonds. Perfect hair for the perfect occasion, anchored by a fragile smile I no longer recognized.

I touched my handbag. The ultrasound was still there, and so were the shoes. I closed my eyes.

Roman loves me. Roman loves me.

I repeated it silently like a prayer.

He chose me four years ago when he could’ve chosen anyone. He stayed with me even though I was wolfless. He paid my mother’s medical bills every month without a single complaint. He stood beside me when the pack questioned why an Alpha like him would marry a woman without a wolf.

He loves me.

He had to.

The elevator chimed open, and I walked toward room fifty-nine. The hallway was dead quiet. My heartbeat grew deafening with every step.

Then, I heard a woman’s voice.

I stopped dead, my blood turning to ice. The door wasn’t completely closed, which was highly unusual for a hotel. I didn’t move, I just listened closely.

"I missed you so much," Roman growled, his tone entirely seductive.

My fingers tightened desperately around the strap of my handbag.

"I missed you too." The woman’s voice was soft and sickeningly familiar.

"I thought about you every day after you left," Roman’s voice dropped lower, "I couldn’t stop thinking about you."

My chest tightened.

"Two years," he continued. "Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed about you?"

I stared at the sliver of space between the door and the frame. My mind completely refused to understand what my ears were hearing.

He sounded so happy. I had heard Roman speak to investors, employees, family members, and even me. But I had never heard this raw voice from him.

This warmth. This deep longing.

The woman’s light laugh followed. Then her voice became even softer. "Since you say you really missed me, don’t use protection tonight."

My stomach violently turned.

I stopped breathing. There was brief silence. Then, I heard them kiss. I took one trembling step backward.

Then another.

I should’ve left. I knew I should have. But my body refused to obey.

Another sound echoed from inside the room. A slap of flesh. The woman’s breath caught. Roman said something that I couldn’t quite make out.

Then she moaned his name.

My eyes burned like fire. I clamped my hand over my mouth.

"No," I sniffed, the broken word barely leaving me. I shook my head.

This wasn't happening. Not to me. Not tonight.

I heard Roman’s voice again.

"You’ve always been the best. I’ve missed you so much."

Something deep inside me shattered. It wasn’t the wet sound of their kiss that destroyed me. It wasn’t even the woman.

It was his voice.

The same man who had kissed my forehead this afternoon. The same man who had looked deeply into my eyes and told me he couldn’t wait for our dinner.

He had already planned this. He had already chosen her.

I turned around.

I didn’t remember walking back to the elevator. I didn’t remember blindly navigating through the lobby. I didn’t even remember unlocking my car.

I only realized I was crying when the first hot tear fell onto my knuckles.

Then another. And another.

I got inside the car and slammed the door shut. The moment I was entirely alone, I broke. A raw sob tore out of my chest. I pressed both hands over my face, my shoulders shaking violently.

For four years, I had viciously protected this marriage. I defended Roman when the pack said he only married me because a wolfless mate was easy to control. I defended him when people whispered that I was the real mind behind Blackwood Dominion. I defended him when they rudely asked why we didn’t have children. I stayed because I believed in us. And tonight, I came here finally carrying our babies.

Our miracle. Our second chance.

I looked down at my handbag through blurred vision. My fingers trembled violently as I pulled out the tiny pairs of white shoes. They were so incredibly small. I cradled them in my palm.

"Your father was supposed to be happy," I whispered, my voice cracking completely.

I pressed the shoes hard against my chest and cried harder. For several minutes, I couldn’t even catch my breath. Eventually, my instinct forced me to start the car.

I drove home through blurred vision, wiping tears from my cheeks whenever they fell.

When I reached the mansion, the candles were still burning down to their wicks. The romantic roses were still scattered across the cold floor. The lavish food was still sitting untouched on the dining table.

Everything looked exactly the way I’d left it.

Except me.

I walked straight into the dining room. One by one, I blew out the candles. The darkness felt so much kinder.

I sat down at the table and stared at the cold food. My stomach growled, and I almost laughed aloud at the absurdity. Of all the things that could hurt right now, my body simply chose hunger.

I reached for my plate and forced myself to eat slowly. Alone.

Every bite felt like dry ash getting stuck in my throat, but I kept chewing. I needed to eat. My babies needed me.

I cleared the table and turned off the remaining lights.

By the time I dragged myself to the couch, bone-deep exhaustion had swallowed me whole. I curled up tightly beneath a woven blanket. The tears came again, hot and silent in the dark.

Eventually, I cried myself to sleep.

Hours later, the front door clicked open. The sound startled me awake, and I blinked blearily into the darkness. Roman walked inside, aggressively flipping the lights on, and I could finally see it.

His expensive tie was loose, his dark hair thoroughly messed up.

He looked completely exhausted. He didn’t look guilty in the slightest.

"Where were you, Roman?" I began, my voice sounding small.

He merely glanced at me, unbothered. "We had a contract deal that needed to be closed."

I stared at him.

A contract. That was what he had decided to call tonight.

"I forgot to get you flowers. I’ll get them tomorrow." he added casually, discarding his suit jacket.

My chest ached fiercely.

He walked over and reached for me. I stiffened instinctively when his large hands touched my waist, but he didn’t even notice my rigid posture. He simply lifted me from the couch and carried me upstairs.

I didn’t fight him. I didn’t have the strength to fight an Alpha right now. He placed me gently on our bed.

"What was it you wanted to tell me earlier?" he grumbled, pulling off his tie.

I stared up at his face. The words were sitting right there on the tip of my tongue.

I’m pregnant.

We’re finally having twin babies.

I had come to tell him exactly that tonight. But looking at him now, I couldn’t say them. Not after what I had heard.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" he asked again, his dark brows drawing together in mild confusion.

"I’m tired, Roman," I hissed, my fists clenching tight at my sides.

"Well, so am I," he responded dismissively. He laid down heavily beside me, absolutely reeking of foreign strawberry and vanilla perfume—a cloying scent that overwhelmed my human senses, mocking me with its undeniable proof. "Can it wait until tomorrow?"

Before I could even answer, his breathing leveled out. He was already fast asleep. I lay frozen beside him, staring blindly into the darkness.

The exact same man who had just spent the evening telling another woman how desperately he missed her was now sleeping peacefully beside me.

He didn’t know that I knew his real whereabouts tonight. He didn’t know about the ultrasound hidden in my handbag. He didn’t even know about the tiny shoes. And he didn’t know that the woman lying beside him was carrying his children.

His heirs.

I turned my back to him, putting as much space between us as the mattress allowed. My hand settled firmly over my stomach as tears slid silently down my face into the pillow.

Tonight, I’d come to give Roman everything he’d ever wanted.

Instead, he had just given me the first reason I’ve ever had to wonder if I should take it all away.