After a restless night, I finally tore myself away from Anastasia's bedside and went home to my condo. Exhaustion gnawed at me, and I knew I needed a change of clothes and a decent cup of coffee to function. Pulling off the scrubs, I traded them for a pair of comfy jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. With a quick caffeine fix in mind, I headed to a nearby 24/7 diner. These late-night havens were a godsend. Sliding into a booth, I nursed a strong cup of coffee, the bitter brew jumpstarting my foggy brain.The first rays of dawn were just peeking over the horizon as I returned to the hospital. Entering Anastasia's room, I froze in surprise. There, perched on a chair beside the bed, sat a woman I recognized all too well – Anastasia's stepmother, Marianne. She was a woman of striking beauty. But something in her makes me feel intimidated and that was new to my vocabulary. I seldom got intimidated. Anastasia was the one person who could truly get under this woman’s skin."She does n
Regan’s POVThe exhaustion clawed at me that mirrored the worry twisting in my gut. Anastasia's face, pale and unconscious, kept flashing behind my eyelids. Every sip of the amber liquid at the bar did little to drown the guilt that choked me."If only I'd choose her," I muttered to myself, swirling the ice in my glass with a trembling hand.The past few hours replayed in my mind, a relentless loop of self-blame. If I'd chosen to spend the evening with Anastasia, maybe, just maybe, things would have been different. She wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines.Just as despair threatened to consume me, a hand landed on my shoulder. I flinched, startled, and turned to see Alan's familiar face etched with concern."Regan, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice low but laced with worry. "You look like you've been dragged through the wringer."I shrugged him off n
Regan's POVAlan finally managed to wrestle me out of the bar, the bouncer barking threats behind us. My face throbbed with a dull ache; my knuckles were scraped raw. Fishing a crumpled pack of cigarettes from my pocket, I fumbled for a lighter. The flame sparked to life, casting a glow on my bloodied hand."Here," Alan muttered, shoving a napkin at me. "Clean yourself up, you maniac."I ignored him, taking a long drag on the cigarette, the harsh smoke doing little to soothe the ache in my chest. "Damn it," I rasped, the words laced with frustration. "I wanted to turn those creeps into mush."The bouncer, a burly man with a shaved head, reached the doorway and threw his arms out, effectively blocking our re-entry. "You're done here, buddy! Find another bar to wreck!" He puffed out his chest, trying to appear intimidating, but to me, he looked like a puffed-up pigeon."Relax, tou
When I woke up, the room was bathed in the glow of fluorescent lights, casting an unnatural sheen over the sterile white walls. Everything felt heavy—my limbs like lead, my chest as if a boulder rested on it, and even my eyelids, which fought against the simple act of opening. The steady, rhythmic beeping of the monitor beside me was oddly soothing, grounding me in a place I wasn’t yet ready to fully acknowledge. I blinked, the harsh light stinging my eyes as I tried to adjust. My surroundings were unfamiliar, cold, and impersonal, with the faint smell of antiseptic lingering in the air. The scratchy blanket draped over me was barely warm, and a dull ache coursed through my body. Slowly, the realization began to settle. I was in a hospital. The sterile room and its cold silence felt suffocating. Alone. No father. No brothers. No Regan. Just me and the persistent hum of machines monitoring my fragile state. A pang of loneliness shot through me as I tried to piece together how I’d en
I wanted to believe her, but the gnawing emptiness inside me wouldn’t let me. “What about Regan?” I asked hesitantly, the words slipping out before I could stop myself. Sheila’s expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, she didn’t speak, and I felt the silence stretch out uncomfortably between us. “He came once,” she said finally, her voice clipped. “But I didn’t let him see you. I’m sorry, Ana, but I just… I couldn’t. Not after everything he’s put you through. It’s always him, isn’t it?” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn’t argue with her. Regan was always at the center of my chaos, the storm I couldn’t seem to escape. “It’s fine, Sheila,” I murmured, though the ache in my chest said otherwise. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s true that he was always my chaos”Sheila’s hand covered mine again, her grip firm but comforting. “You don’t have to think about him right now, Ana. Just focus on getting better, okay?” I hesitated, biting
“There’s… something else,” she murmured, squeezing my hand just a little tighter.I frowned, my heart skipping a beat. “What?” The wariness in my voice was undeniable. A hundred possibilities ran through my mind, twisting my stomach into knots.Sheila hesitated as if weighing whether she should say it now or not. Then, with a playful smirk, she shook her head. “Not yet”I narrowed my eyes. “Sheila.”She laughed softly, leaning back in her chair. “Nope. Not telling you yet. I want to do this properly. You deserve a little excitement after all the crap you’ve been through.” “I don’t think I can handle any more bad news”“I know,” she said, grinning. “But trust me, it’ll be worth it. Just wait until this afternoon.”Suspense curled inside me. Sheila wasn’t one to hold back important information, so for her to tease me like this meant whatever it was… it had to be big. I was about to demand more when the door suddenly opened, and a familiar voice rang out.“Anastasia…”I turned toward th
The afternoon sun cast a golden hue across my room, spilling through the windows. The silence had stretched for too long, my mind wandering between exhaustion and the weight of everything that had happened. But when the door suddenly burst open, I blinked in surprise.Sheila stood there, dressed in casual clothes. A loose, comfortable sweater draped over her frame, paired with simple jeans and sneakers. But what caught my attention wasn’t just her sudden change of attire—it was what she carried.In one arm, she balanced a beautifully wrapped box, the soft pastel ribbons tied into an elegant bow. On the other hand, she held a small camera, her fingers gripping it like she had been waiting for this moment all day. And then there was the cake—a decadent-looking one, rich and layered, placed carefully on a tray.“What—” I started, eyeing the assortment of items she carried, but she cut me off with an excited grin.“I could not wait to tell you the surprise I mentioned earlier!” she practi
The world around me seemed to slow down. My hands clenched around the ultrasound, my gaze glued to it, as if afraid that looking away would make it disappear. I opened my mouth, but no words came out—just a sharp intake of breath, my throat tightening with emotion.“I—” My voice cracked.Sheila plopped down onto the chair beside me, an uncharacteristically wide grin on her face. “Surprise!”A strangled laugh escaped me, half-disbelieving, half-overwhelmed. “I-is this real?” I whispered.“As real as it gets.” She nudged me gently. “I found out after your accident. But with everything that happened, I wanted to tell you when you were strong enough.”I placed a hand over my stomach, my mind racing.A baby. My baby.The thought sent another wave of emotions crashing over me—fear, happiness, uncertainty. But above all… love. A deep, unfamiliar kind of love.Sheila let out a playful groan, reaching over to swipe at my tears with her sleeve, shaking her head dramatically. “Oh, come on, don’t
When I finally reached outside, the heavy doors of the terrace yard shutting behind me, the first tear slipped down my cheek before I could even stop it. Another followed, and another, until my vision blurred.Ava and Sheila rushed toward me the second they saw me, their faces etched with worry. Ava gripped my arm gently, her brows furrowed as she tried to catch my gaze."Anastasia, what happened? Are you okay? What’s wrong?" she asked urgently, her voice rising with panic.Sheila hovered close, her hand resting lightly on my back, grounding me, waiting for me to say something, anything. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even form the words."I just..." I croaked out, blinking furiously against the tears still spilling freely down my face. "I just want to get out of here. Please."That was all I said. And that was all they needed.Without a word, Sheila nodded fiercely, wrapping an arm around me as they guided me quickly back to t
The wind stirred again, stronger this time, whipping strands of my hair around my face, making the hem of my dress flutter wildly against my knees. I tucked the loose hair behind my ear again, but it was pointless—the breeze only pulled it free a moment later. It was as if even the world itself refused to let this moment be still.Regan shifted, his jaw clenching, the warmth that had flickered briefly in his eyes vanishing. His shoulders stiffened, his whole posture changing, becoming closed off—cold. The sharpness in his expression was unmistakable now, like my presence alone was grating against him.“Well?" he said, his voice tight, clipped. "What do you want to say, Anastasia? Why couldn't you just say it over the phone like a normal person?"The way he said my name—sharp, almost annoyed—stung more than I cared to admit. I felt the words catch in my throat for a second, but I swallowed them down, forcing myself to speak without letting my voice crack.
I saw his expression shift instantly—surprise flashing across his handsome features, confusion knitting into the crease of his brow. Without a word, he took a few slow steps forward, each one deliberate, closing the distance between us until we stood face to face.And there we were. Breathing the same air. Yet feeling worlds apart.My palms grew clammy, fingers instinctively tightening around the soft fabric of my dress. My heart beat faster, almost painfully, each thud a wild drum against my ribs. I could feel the panic blooming quietly inside me, spreading its tremors into my bones, rooting my feet to the ground.The silence between us was deafening. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved.We just stared at each other, locked in this strange moment, as if any wrong move would shatter whatever was holding us together—or perhaps, whatever was left. It was the first time we had seen each other again after that confrontation in our house. The time I saw him sleeping with Zarina, the t
The car slowed to a stop at the edge of the Garden Café's private entrance.It was exactly how I had requested it. Empty. Private.The building itself was beautiful—a modern, elegant glass structure with wide-open archways leading to a sprawling outdoor yard that overlooked the city below. The afternoon sun painted the stone path golden, and a light breeze teased the white drapes framing the open terrace. The view was breathtaking, but even the beauty of it couldn’t settle the pounding in my chest.Ava killed the engine, pulling her sunglasses down and peering around skeptically. "Well. It’s a graveyard. Very fitting for whatever dramatic conversation you’re about to have."Sheila shifted nervously in her seat, glancing at me. "You sure you wanna do this alone, Stasia? We can wait inside. Hide behind a plant. Throw things if he says something stupid."I laughed under my breath, touched beyond words. I reached over, squeezing Sheila’s hand and then Ava’s shoulder. "No. I need to do th
The low sound of the engine filled the car, a background noise against the sound of traffic outside. Ava was behind the wheel, her sunglasses perched on her nose, one hand casually resting at twelve o'clock on the steering wheel. Her hair—that wild ginger bun—bounced slightly every time we hit a bump. Sheila was in the passenger seat, legs tucked up like a kid, fiddling with the radio stations every five seconds and earning glares from Ava.And me?I was curled up in the backseat, leaning against the window, staring out at the blur of the city as it rushed past. It should have been a normal car ride. It should have felt like any other day.But it didn’t.Because today...Today I was going to face Regan again."Are you sure you’ll be okay, Tasia?" Sheila asked for what felt like the millionth time, twisting halfway in her seat to look at me.I smiled faintly, "Yes, I’ll be fine."Ava snorted loudly, adjusting her grip o
Sheila laughed and shoved her playfully. "Please, I’m the life of this party. You’re the sidekick, four-eyes.""Four-eyes? Bold words coming from someone who tripped over a flat sidewalk last week!"Sheila scowled. "Did Tasia tell you that? It was uneven!""It was flat," Ava shot back without missing a beat. "Gravity personally requested you fall over to entertain the public."I couldn't stop laughing, hiding my face behind my hand as the two of them bickered like no time had passed at all. It was chaotic, it was loud, it was messy—And it was home.Sheila turned to me with an exaggerated sigh. "You see what I put up with? You should pay me hazard fees just for being friends with her."Ava rolled her eyes and leaned casually against the table. "Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome for making your life interesting."Susan and Elise were trying—and failing—to hide their giggles as they discreetly stepped
The morning light streamed through the massive, floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room, filling the space. The wide, sunlit room looked like something from a magazine spread—polished marble floors, pale cream walls lined with intricate crown moldings, and plush, oversized couches in soft champagne hues. The chandelier above sparkled subtly, catching the light.In the center of it all, a long rectangular table had been set up—draped in white linen and neatly arranged with tasting plates, tiny glasses, and silver utensils.Susan and a few of the maids bustled quietly nearby, arranging fresh pitchers of water and clearing empty plates.And at the far end of the room stood a cluster of smartly dressed individuals from Champagne and Roses Events Company, all smiling with their clipboards in hand and their nerves barely hidden beneath their professional exteriors.In the midst of it all—I sat poised at the head of the table, wearing a simple but el
I stared at the phone. The call replayed in my mind. His offer, unexpected and overwhelming. Something I hadn’t seen coming.Then—my phone buzzed again.The sound made me flinch, jarring me out of my daze. But when I glanced at the screen, my heart stuttered.Miguel Sanchez. Champagne and Roses Events Company.The one I had hired months ago for Regan’s birthday—before everything fell apart. Before Zarina. Before the accident. Before the child growing silently inside me.My fingers hesitated for just a moment before I swiped to answer."Hello?""Good afternoon, Ms. Anastasia!" the man chirped, his voice full of an excitement I couldn’t even begin to mirror. "I’m just calling to confirm that everything is set for your husband’s birthday! We’re almost ready with the setup—just wanted to ask if you’d like us to drop by your home and discuss final details like food options and guests lists!"My breath hitched painfully.
Another short silence stretched between us, and I could almost picture him standing somewhere across the world, arms crossed, watching over me the way he always used to."Why did you call, Uncle? Is there a problem?"“No, no, dear," he said quickly, reassuringly. "There is no problem.”I slumped back slightly into the chair."Oh," I exhaled, allowing the smallest smile to pull at the corner of my mouth, "that’s good to hear."But there was a pause on his end—a pause that said there was more. Much more.“I know you heard from Don Alonso,” he said finally.I stiffened, heart picking up again. Moment of truth.I swallowed. "Um, yeah… is it about the promise? Is that why you called?"There was no hesitation in his answer."Yes, it is," he said simply. "I know it must be hard to believe something like that even existed. I understand it must be shocking."I laughed softly under my breath, a dry, breathless sound.