All Chapters of Too Late , I am Carrying His Child : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The date was carved in Savannah’s heart. Their wedding anniversary. She had spent the whole week preparing. She bought a white dress that she thought Nathaniel would like. She cooked his favorite meal, even lit candles in the dining room. She wanted that night to remind him they were still husband and wife, that love could grow if given a chance. But instead of a smile, instead of a gift, he gave her divorce papers. Savannah lay in bed that night, her body curled tight, her eyes swollen from crying. The white dress was still on the chair. The food in the dining room had gone cold. Her heart felt like broken glass, each piece cutting her deeper every time she remembered his words. “You were never my choice.” “You mean nothing to me.” She pressed her hand on her belly. He didn’t believe her. He thought she was lying about the baby. But she knew the truth. She could feel it. There was life inside her, tiny but real. Tears ran down her face again. It was meant to b

The rain kept falling all night. Savannah could not sleep. She lay on the cold bed, staring at the ceiling, her hand on her stomach. Her heart was beating too fast, her tears had already dried but the pain refused to go. Cassandra’s words kept replaying in her head. “Drag her out if she refuses to leave.” Her chest hurt every time she thought of it. Nathaniel’s cold voice added more fire. “She won’t last much longer.” She turned on her side and looked at the empty space beside her. Nathaniel never slept here anymore. He never touched her, never cared. Now she knew why. He had Cassandra. He had no reason to keep her around. Her hand rubbed her belly slowly. “My baby, I will not let him throw us out. I will not let her win.” For the first time, she thought of something she had never allowed herself to think before. Leaving. Running. Starting again somewhere he could never find her. The thought scared her. She had no family, no money, no power. Nathaniel control

The night was long. Savannah sat on the bed, staring at the divorce papers. Her tears had dried, but her chest still hurt like fire. She had not signed. She had promised herself she would not. Nathaniel’s words echoed in her head. “You don’t leave this house until you sign.” She looked at the papers again. Then at the door. Then back at her stomach. Her baby kicked softly, as if telling her what she already knew. If she stayed, she would lose everything. If she left, at least she could protect the child. The next morning, Nathaniel left early for work. He didn’t even look at her before walking out of the mansion. His cold suit, his cold eyes, his cold heart. The door shut behind him, and silence filled the halls. Savannah sat still for a long moment. Her breath came fast, her hands shaking. She knew this was the chance. Maybe the only one she would ever get. She grabbed the bag she had hidden under the bed. She stuffed in the few clothes, the little money sh

Savannah sat on the small motel bed. Her whole body shook from crying. Her face was pale, her lips dry, her eyes red. She pressed her hands against her belly and whispered, “I will keep you safe. Even if I have nothing, I will keep you safe.” The room was tiny, with broken curtains, old wallpaper peeling from the wall, and a bed that smelled of dust. It was all she could afford after running out of the mansion. She had left with nothing. No car. No jewels. No money in her purse. Not even a single photograph of herself. Nathaniel had thrown her away like trash. And the worst part—he didn’t even care if she lived or died. Tears filled her eyes again, and she curled up on the bed, holding her knees to her chest. The weight of loneliness pressed down on her. Her phone lit up on the old wooden table. She dragged herself over and picked it up. The name on the screen: **Vanessa.** Her throat tightened. Vanessa was her best friend, the only one

Savannah’s heart raced so fast she thought it might tear her chest open. She froze on the bench, her bag still on her lap. Her eyes lifted slowly and met the man’s stare. He was tall, his suit pressed, his shoes shining like glass. The way he stood, the way he said her name, it sounded too sharp. Too sure. Her lips shook. “Who… who are you?” she whispered, almost choking on her own breath. The man stepped closer, his shoes clicking on the sidewalk. The sound was loud in the night, louder than the cars that passed, louder than the noise of the street. His smile was slow, but it wasn’t warm. He pulled a clipboard from under his arm and tapped it with his finger. “My name is David,” he said at last. His voice softened a little. “I work for the laundry. I do the hotel runs. Rosa asked me to check new staff. That’s why I know your name. You signed the sheet this morning, remember?” Savannah blinked fast. Her mouth opened but no sound came. Her chest rose and fell as if the