Eric hadn't slept a wink. The weight of Agnes's pregnancy pressed on his mind like a vise, refusing to loosen its grip. No matter how many times he replayed the past few months, one truth remained inescapable—she had lied to him.
Every time they were together, she insisted she was on the pill. Reassuring. Convincing. And he, like a fool, believed her.
And now? She had the audacity to betray him in the cruelest way imaginable.
He sat at the edge of the bed, staring down at her sleeping form. Her chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm, completely unaware of the storm brewing within him. His gaze drifted lower—toward her stomach.
It was too early to show, but he knew. That life growing inside her was his. And it felt less like a miracle and more like a chain tightening around his neck.
Yes, the sex had been good. Wild, even. But it was Winter he imagined every time, not Agnes. Always Winter.
And now this... this reality threatened everything.
