Lahat ng Kabanata ng No Apologies, No Regrets: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

In the days that followed, the atmosphere between Fedora and Judah shifted. The intimacy they had shared was now replaced by a palpable tension. Every glance lingered a moment too long, every touch was avoided. They moved around each other with a newfound caution, as if afraid that proximity might reignite the flames they were desperately trying to smother.Judah, ever the professional, buried himself in the mission. He coordinated with the CIA, ensuring that every detail of the final drug delivery of El Padre Rivas was flawless. His days were consumed with briefings, surveillance, and contingency plans. He needed the distraction, needed to focus on something other than the memory of Fedora's touch, the sound of her voice whispering his name in the dark.Fedora, too, threw herself into the role she had to play. She rehearsed her lines, perfected her smiles, and reminded herself of the stakes. This was more than just a mission; it was a game of life and death. And there was no room for

The fluorescent lights buzzed quietly above the sterile stillness of the ICU. The air carried the scent of antiseptic and faint lavender from the small diffuser on the corner shelf. Fedora lay still, the beeping of the heart monitor syncing with her shallow breaths. Her face bore the bruises of a war she hadn’t signed up for.A soft knock tapped at the hospital room door, and in walked a woman in pale scrubs, clutching a chart."Good morning, sweetheart," she said gently, her voice warm and reassuring. "I'm Nurse Jenny. I’ve been assigned to your care for the next few days."Fedora blinked, her lips dry and cracked. “Morning… I’m feeling… sore. Everywhere,” she managed, her voice hoarse.Jenny gave her a sympathetic smile. “I bet you are. You’ve been through hell and back.”Jenny walked to the monitor, then to the foot of the bed, flipping open the chart. She hesitated, then looked back at Fedora.“You’re lucky,” she said softly.Fedora raised an eyebrow. “Lucky?”Jenny nodded. “Yes.

The days passed in quiet routine — tea in the mornings, light meals in the afternoons, and soft, muted evenings with Jenny perched on the armrest, chatting gently as Fedora rested. There was no visible bump yet — just a whisper of life only Fedora and Jenny knew existed. Three weeks along, and yet everything already felt different.Jenny’s visits remained constant, her presence a steady anchor. She came with groceries, vitamins, fresh towels, and the occasional sarcastic comment that actually made Fedora smile. Their bond had deepened — no longer nurse and patient, but confidantes. Sisters in silence.One quiet afternoon, Jenny gently broached the topic, “You should register for antenatal care soon, Fedora. It's important to get proper checkups and bloodwork done early.”Fedora nodded thoughtfully, then answered in a hush, “I will. Just… not yet. Once I’m back at my own apartment. That way, it’s harder for anyone—Judah especially—to trace anything. I need space to breathe without bein

The soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room, a gentle backdrop to the rhythmic thump of Fedora's heartbeat. She lay on the examination table, eyes fixed on the monitor, as the technician moved the probe across her abdomen."Well, everything looks good..." the technician began, then paused, eyes widening slightly. "Wait a moment."Fedora's heart skipped a beat. She turned her gaze to the technician, searching her face for clues."You're..." The technician hesitated, then smiled. "You're having twins."A wave of emotions crashed over Fedora—shock, disbelief, joy, and a hint of fear. She stared at the monitor, where two tiny forms danced in tandem, their heartbeats echoing in the room."Twins?" she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.The technician nodded, her smile reassuring. "Yes, twins. Congratulations."For a moment, everything stilled. No sound, no breath—just the echo of those words reverberating inside Fedora’s chest.Twins.She blinked at the screen, at the two

Judah was a man unraveling.Since the day Fedora disappeared—vanished without a trace after the mission—his life had tilted into a quiet kind of chaos. Days blurred into nights, and nights bled into mornings with no rest in between. He had memorized the sound of silence in his apartment. The kind that screamed. The kind that held her absence like a noose.He had known their marriage was a contract. A mission. A high-level deception to fool one of the most dangerous cartel leaders in the Western Hemisphere. He had watched Fedora play the role of a wife so convincingly—her laughter, her touches, the glint of fire in her eyes—that even he forgot where the act ended and she began.But that night…That night they shared—the night after the near-death ambush, when her lips trembled and her guard dropped—wasn’t part of any contract. It was raw. Consuming. Real.And it had changed everything.She was gone before he could tell her what it meant to him.And the silence she left behind felt like