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Josh doesn't know about the baby.
I never told him. I couldn't. After what happened that night—after the blood, the screams, and the silence that followed—he disappeared. And I let him. Not because I forgave him, but because I didn't know how to face him… or what he'd become.
I thought I could forget. That I could bury the memory like I buried the truth inside me. But the truth doesn't stay buried—not when it kicks inside you, growing stronger every day.
A few days ago, a letter arrived. Not from him—from an old friend from university. She was getting married and wanted me at her wedding banquet. A handwritten invitation, scented with nostalgia and lavender. I hadn't seen her in years.
At first, I tossed it aside. Fancy dresses, polite conversations, and happy couples weren't exactly what I was craving. But something about it pulled at me. Maybe I needed the distraction. Or maybe I was hoping to remember who I was before all of this—before Josh, before the murder, before the baby.
So I went.
I wore a long, flowing dress—soft mauve, with sleeves that kissed my wrists and fabric that fluttered around my ankles. It was elegant… and loose enough to hide the small swell of my belly. I wasn't ready to explain. I wasn't ready to be seen.
The banquet hall was warm, golden, glowing. Strings of lights hung from the ceiling like stars, casting everything in a soft, forgiving hue. Music played gently, laughter floated through the air, and people moved like they had nothing in the world to fear.
For a moment, I let myself breathe. I smiled at strangers, sipped something sparkling, and even laughed—once. It felt almost normal.
Then I saw him.
Josh.
He stood among the VIPs, dressed in a crisp black suit, one hand tucked casually in his pocket, the other holding a drink. He was laughing. His eyes sparkled under the lights. People surrounded him like he belonged.
Like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn't taken a life just nights ago.
Like he hadn't shattered my heart and disappeared.
My breath caught. The world tilted. I reached for a glass of water just to stop my hands from trembling.
He hadn't seen me yet. But I saw him. And I saw a man untouched. Calm. Almost magnetic. There wasn't even a shadow in his eyes. No guilt. No grief. Just… charm.
How could he look like that?
How could he move on so easily, while I was left clutching the pieces of something only I knew existed?
I felt invisible. Like I had been erased from his world entirely.
And in that moment, I realized something that made my heart sink deeper than it ever had before:
Josh wasn't hiding from the past.
He was done with it.
But I couldn't be.
Because I was still carrying the secret he left behind—
His child.
Our child.
And he had no idea.