All Chapters of Nights I sold to him : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Two weeks.That’s how long it’s been since the package came.I keep the letter in my nightstand drawer. I take it out every night, read it until the words blur from tears, then fold it back careful—like it’s the most precious thing I own.The sketches are under my bed in the sketchbook. I look at them when Grandma’s asleep. His drawings of me make my chest hurt—so gentle, so full of care. Like he saw the real me, not just the girl who needed help.The check? I haven’t touched it.It’s still in the envelope on the kitchen table. Grandma saw it one day and didn’t say anything. Just squeezed my shoulder.I got a new job waitressing at a small café across town. No one knows me there. Tips are okay. Enough to cover groceries and the little bills. Grandma’s medicine is paid, so we’re breathing easier.But everything else feels heavy.I miss him in ways I didn’t know you could miss someone.I miss his voice—low and calm, asking about my day like it mattered.I miss his hands—big and warm, al

We’re sitting on the couch in the penthouse, coffee gone cold between us. Noah’s hand is tight around mine, like he’s afraid I’ll pull away when he tells me.The name hangs in the air.“Emily,” he says finally. “Emily Harper.”I nod slowly. I’ve heard the name before—in old articles when the scandal first broke. The woman who left Noah Kingston at the altar eight years ago. The one the tabloids called the runaway bride.He takes a deep breath.“We met in college. I was twenty-seven, just starting to take over parts of the company from my dad. She was twenty-five, working in marketing for one of our partners. Smart. Funny. Beautiful—blonde hair, blue eyes, always laughing.”He stares at the floor.“We dated for three years. I thought she was it. The one. I proposed on a trip to Paris—big gesture, down on one knee by the Eiffel Tower at night. She said yes. Cried happy tears.”His voice gets quieter.“The wedding was huge. Three hundred guests. Her family pushed for it—old money, wanted

The test is still on the bathroom counter, two pink lines staring back at me like a promise I’m terrified to believe.Noah hasn’t stopped smiling since I showed him.He kisses my stomach every morning, whispers little things to the baby already—like can’t wait to meet you or you’re gonna have your mom’s eyes. It makes me cry happy tears every time.We go to the first ultrasound together.I’m nervous the whole drive—hands twisting in my lap. Noah holds one tight, thumb rubbing slow circles.The room is dim.Cold gel.The wand moves.Then the sound.Thump-thump-thump-thump.Fast. Strong.Our baby’s heartbeat.Tears flood my eyes instantly. Noah’s hand squeezes mine so hard it hurts, but I don’t care. His eyes are wet too.The tech smiles. “Everything looks good so far. About eight weeks.”We get the printouts. Tiny blob with a flickering heart.In the car, Noah pulls over on a quiet street. He leans his head on the steering wheel a second, then looks at me.“We’re having a baby, Lila.”

I sit in the waiting room of Dr. Alex Reed’s office, twisting a tissue in my hands until it shreds.The place is calm—soft gray walls, plants in the corners, quiet music playing low. Nothing like the chaos in my head.Mia drove me here. She’s waiting in the car, said she’d grab coffee but really just giving me space.The door opens.“Miss Carter? I’m Dr. Reed.”I look up.He’s younger than I expected—mid-thirties maybe. Tall, dark hair a little long, kind brown eyes behind glasses. Warm smile. The kind that makes you feel like it’s okay to fall apart.“Call me Lila.”He nods. “Lila. Come in.”His office is cozy. Big chair for me, couch if I want. Bookshelves full. Window overlooking a small garden.I sit in the chair.He sits across from me, notepad on his lap but not open yet.“First sessions are just talking,” he says gently. “Whatever you want. Or nothing at all.”I nod. My throat tight.We sit in silence for a minute.Then it spills out.Everything.The arrangement.How it started

I don’t sleep much after Victoria’s visit.The ripped check pieces are still on the table. Grandma swept them up this morning, didn’t say a word.I go to work at the café. Fake smiles for customers. Hands shaking when I pour coffee.Mia texts: How you holding up?Barely.She replies with a heart emoji.Therapy is tomorrow. I’m counting hours.That evening I’m home, helping Grandma with dinner. Simple stuff—chicken and rice.The doorbell rings.Grandma wipes her hands. “I’ll get it.”I hear a man’s voice.Deep. Smooth. Confident.My stomach twists.Grandma comes back to the kitchen.“It’s Noah’s brother. Ethan.”I freeze.He walks in behind her.Tall like Noah. Same dark hair. But colder eyes. Sharp suit. Smile that doesn’t reach them.“Lila.” He nods like we’re old friends.“What do you want?”Grandma stands close, arms crossed.Ethan looks around the small kitchen. Not mean, just… noticing.“Nice place.”I don’t answer.He pulls out a chair, sits without asking.“I’ll be straight. My