Chapter 22
844words
"Are you okay?" Noah asked, his hand finding mine across the center console.
I took a deep breath, looking at the city blurring past. Seeing Liam like that, broken, dirty, desperate, should have felt satisfying. It should have been the ultimate revenge.
Instead, it just felt... pathetic. Like watching a rabid dog that needed to be put down.
"I'm fine," I said, squeezing Noah's hand. "He's just a ghost."
"A ghost who needs a restraining order," Noah muttered. "I'm doubling security."
"We don't need to worry about him today," I smiled, moving my hand to my lower abdomen. "Today is about happy things."
Noah's face instantly softened. The hard billionaire edge melted away. "The ultrasound."
We pulled up to the private clinic. It had been three months since I arrived in Boston. Three months of healing. Three months of love that didn't hurt.
And six weeks since the stick turned pink.
We walked into the clinic hand in hand. The appointment was a blur of joy. The doctor showed us the monitor.
There it was. A tiny, flickering bean. A heartbeat. Strong. Steady.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
It sounded like the most beautiful music in the world. I cried. Noah cried. He kissed my forehead, whispering promises to the tiny life on the screen.
"It's real," I whispered. "This time, it's real."
"And it's safe," Noah vowed.
We walked out of the clinic an hour later, floating on cloud nine. I held the ultrasound printout against my chest like a shield.
"I want ice cream," I announced. "Pickles and peanut butter ice cream."
Noah laughed. "Disgusting. Let's go get it."
We turned the corner toward the parking lot.
"Elena."
The voice came from the shadows of the alleyway.
I froze. Noah instantly stepped in front of me, his body tense.
Liam stepped out. He looked even worse than before. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes torn. He had followed us. He must have run all the way here.
"Liam," Noah warned, "take one more step and I will end you."
"I just want to talk," Liam raised his hands. He looked at me, peering around Noah's shoulder. His gaze dropped to the photo in my hand. The ultrasound.
His eyes widened. He paled, his skin turning the color of ash.
"Is that..." Liam pointed a shaking finger. "Is that... yours?"
I stepped out from behind Noah. I wasn't afraid. I had the truth on my side.
"Yes," I said calmly.
"You're pregnant?" Liam's voice cracked. "But... you said you lost the baby. Our baby."
"I did," I said, my voice hardening. "I lost your baby because you chose to save your mistress and sent thugs to run me off the road. This baby..." I touched my stomach. "This is Noah's."
Liam looked as if I had shot him. He staggered back, leaning against the brick wall for support.
"Noah's?" he whispered. "Already? But... we were married. You loved me."
"I loved a memory," I said. "And you killed it."
Suddenly, Liam collapsed. He didn't faint. He fell to his knees. Right there on the dirty sidewalk.
He crawled toward me. He actually crawled.
"Elena, please," he sobbed, reaching for the hem of my coat. "Don't do this. Get rid of it."
My stomach turned. "Excuse me?"
"Get rid of it," Liam begged, looking up at me with wild, manic eyes. "Abort it. We can start over. We can have our baby. I know I messed up. I know I'm garbage. But I can change!"
"You want me to kill my child?" I asked, incredulous. "To be with you?"
"I'll do anything," Liam pressed his forehead against the pavement, his voice muffled and hysterical. "I'll be your dog, Elena. I swear. You can beat me. You can humiliate me. You can take all my money, not that I have any left. Just let me stay. Let me serve you. Don't have his baby. Please."
I looked down at the man I had once worshipped. The "Ice Prince." The star.
Now, he was just a beggar kneeling in the dirt, asking me to commit murder to soothe his ego.
I felt a wave of nausea. Not morning sickness. Pure revulsion.
"You are disgusting," I said. The words were cold, heavy stones.
"Elena, "
"Noah," I turned to my fiancé. "Get this trash away from me. It's bad for the baby."
Noah nodded. He didn't even use his hands. He stepped forward and kicked Liam's hand away from my shoe.
"You heard her," Noah growled. "She's the mother of my child. If you ever come near her or my family again, I won't call the police. I will bury you."
Noah wrapped his arm around me, shielding me from the sight of the sobbing man on the ground.
"Let's go," I said.
We walked away. Behind us, Liam's wails echoed in the alleyway, a sound of absolute, irreversible despair.
"Elena! I'll be your dog! Please! Elena!"
I didn't look back. I looked at the ultrasound photo in my hand.
The past was dead. The future was kicking.
