Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

Rachael's hands trembled slightly as she clutched the small white stick, her pulse hammering in her ears. The office restroom smelled faintly of antiseptic and leftover coffee, but all she could focus on was the little line that confirmed it: positive.Not hers, of course. Her sister's pregnancy had provided the perfect camouflage, the perfect opportunity. She'd gotten the sample while her sister was visiting, convinced she could keep it quiet just long enough. And now... here it was, all the evidence she needed.Damian was pacing outside the stall, oblivious to her little act of subterfuge. He had been fuming for the last five minutes, muttering to himself about deadlines and missing reports, but she knew he would melt as soon as she played her card right."Damian," she called, her voice trembling, though she forced a note of feigned panic. "I... I think there's something you need to see."He froze mid-step. "What is it?"Rachael stepped out, holding the pregnancy test as though it w

Elena's POVI shut the door behind me and leaned against it, breathing in the silence that seemed almost alien after the storm Damian had brought into my life. My chest ached—not just from anger, not just from betrayal—but from exhaustion. From the constant weight of decisions I hadn’t made yet, from the growing life inside me that I didn’t even know I wanted.I had tried. God, I had tried to manage everything: my job, my life, my pride, the absurd love triangle that had become my reality. But I couldn’t anymore. I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight, to explain, to be caught in a hurricane of emotions that wasn’t even mine alone. I just… needed air. Needed space. Needed the world to stop spinning long enough for me to catch my breath.And I knew exactly how to get it.I packed in silence that night, the apartment feeling unusually empty with Damian’s absence and Rachael’s shadow lingering everywhere. Clothes, toiletries, a few keepsakes, and my laptop—the essentials. I didn’t call, didn’t

Damian's POVI didn't sleep. I couldn't.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elena's face when she shoved me away, her voice shaking as she screamed for me to get out. My chest still stung with those words, like she had driven a knife straight through my ribs.But I kept telling myself she'd calm down. That by morning she'd answer her phone. That we'd talk like we always somehow did.Except morning came... and silence followed.By 8 a.m., I had called her twenty-eight times.By 9 a.m., fifty-two.No response. Not even a "stop calling me."That was when panic began creeping in like slow poison.I paced the living room, staring at her last message-the one where she told me she was pregnant. The one I didn't respond to. The one I didn't deserve.I went straight to her apartment."Elena!" I called. "Open the door. I'm not leaving until you-"Nothing.I knocked again. Harder.Still nothing.A cold, sinking feeling crawled into my stomach.I pressed my forehead against the door for a second,

Elena's POVEight months later, my life fit into the quiet rhythm of breathing.In.Out.In.That was how I measured time now—not by board meetings or hostile emails or Damian’s moods, but by the soft rise and fall of my daughter’s chest against mine.She slept curled into me, warm and impossibly small, her tiny fist wrapped around my finger like she had decided—without consulting anyone—that I was hers forever.I hadn’t named her yet.I told people I was taking my time. That I wanted to feel her before naming her. The truth was simpler and messier: naming her would make everything final. Permanent. And permanence still scared me.Outside the window, the city I’d escaped to glowed with late-afternoon sunlight. It wasn’t home—not really—but it had been a refuge. A place where nobody knew my past, my scandals, a man who had married someone else while I carried his child.A place where I learned how to disappear.Brian had made sure I never disappeared completely.He sat across the room

The sun was just climbing over the rooftops when I decided to take my daughter out for a little change of scenery. Our apartment had been my sanctuary, but I could feel the walls shrinking in on me some days. Today, I needed air, coffee, and maybe—if I was lucky—a slice of cake that didn’t come from the box.Around the corner from my building was a café I had noticed in passing many times but had never entered. The exterior was charming, with soft pastel tones, a few potted plants, and a small sign that read: “Brew & Muse: Where Coffee Meets Creativity.” I had no idea what the interior was like, but the name promised calm, and right now calm was exactly what I needed.The bell above the door jingled as I entered, baby in my arms. The smell of roasted coffee beans mingled with something sweet, probably the cake that had already claimed my attention. There was a small nook set up for people who wanted to work and snack simultaneously, complete with tiny tables, cushioned chairs, and lit