Six months slipped by. Then one night, Sebastian came home.
He was drunk—completely wrecked. The moment he walked through the door, his mouth crashed into mine.
I kicked. I clawed. I fought. But he was a man unhinged, deaf to everything, and he took what he wanted.
The next morning, I woke to a bucket of ice water.
Sebastian stood at the bedside, revulsion pouring off him.
"You're disgusting."
"Crawling into my bed while I was drunk—is that how you used to seduce men?"
He called in a professional cleaning crew to sanitize the entire master bedroom. Halfway through, he decided it wasn't enough and had the whole room gutted and rebuilt.
I watched in silence. I didn't bother explaining anymore.
Sebastian would never believe me anyway.
It wasn't until my follow-up appointment that I discovered, completely by accident, that I was pregnant.
When the faint, steady rhythm of my baby's heartbeat filled the ultrasound room, tears I thought had long since dried up spilled down my cheeks again, beyond my control.
I had no one left in this world. Not a single family member. Not a single person who loved me.
But this child—this child made me greedy.
I wanted to keep it.