Chapter 82

POV NOAH

Going to the kitchen was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

And no… that wasn’t an exaggeration.

Every step I took felt heavier than the last, as if the floor was pulling me down, trying to stop me from moving forward. My chest was tight, my breathing uneven, and my head spun with a single word hammering over and over again.

Pregnant.

Luana was pregnant.

And, according to her… the baby was mine.

I ran a hand over my face before even opening the fridge, as if that could wake me from some nightmare. But it didn’t.

None of this was a dream.

I opened the fridge slowly, staring at the lit interior without really seeing anything. It took me a few seconds to remember what I had gone there for.

Juice.

She wanted lemon juice.

My hand grabbed the lemon automatically, as if my body was still functioning on autopilot while my mind was completely lost. I placed the fruit on the counter but stood there for a few seconds, just staring at it.

My hands were shaking.

Slightly.

But enough to irritate me.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and reached for a knife. When I started cutting the lemon, I heard voices coming from the living room.

Low.

But clear enough.

“So… when did you find out?”

Isabela.

My chest tightened painfully.

Just hearing her voice threw everything inside me even further out of place.

“Yesterday,” Luana answered.

I closed my eyes for a second.

My stomach twisted.

Yesterday.

This was happening now. It was real. Recent. Present.

It wasn’t something distant that I could push aside for later.

No.

It was already here. Between us. Inside my home.

Inside my life.

I kept cutting the lemon, but my hand slipped for a second, and the blade almost slid. I let out a heavy sigh, bracing my other hand against the counter to steady myself.

I needed to pull myself together.

But there was no time.

“And… how far along are you?”

Isabela’s question made my entire body freeze.

I held my breath without realizing it.

The silence lasted a second.

Two.

And then Luana answered:

“A few weeks… maybe a month… a little more.”

My heart slammed hard.

Loud.

Painful.

A month.

At the same time.

That night.

The only night I couldn’t remember.

The only part of my life that felt like it had been forcibly erased.

I swallowed hard.

That couldn’t be a coincidence.

It couldn’t.

But then… what was it?

The knife stopped mid-cut.

My mind started spinning faster.

What if…?

The thought came back again.

Like it had for weeks.

Did someone put something in my drink?

My jaw tightened.

That made sense.

A lot more sense than anything else.

But…

Luana.

She was the one who served it.

My breathing grew heavier.

I shook my head slightly, trying to push that thought away.

I didn’t want to believe it.

I didn’t.

But I couldn’t ignore it either.

The voices continued.

They talked about the baby.

About whether it would be a girl or a boy.

About feelings.

Simple things.

Natural things.

But to me… they sounded like blows.

Every word weighed heavier in my chest.

Because, in the middle of all of it…

There was Isabela.

Her silence.

The way she was probably trying to understand.

Trying not to show it.

Trying… not to get hurt.

I closed my eyes for a second, bracing my hands on the counter.

I was screwing everything up.

Everything.

I finished the juice on autopilot. I squeezed the lemon and mixed it with water, sugar… but I didn’t even really know what I was doing. I just wanted to get it over with.

But even with the glass ready in my hand…

I didn’t go back right away.

I stayed there.

Still.

Breathing deeply.

Trying to gather the strength to face it.

To face her.

But I couldn’t.

And I went back anyway.

When I stepped into the living room, the atmosphere hit me like a punch.

Heavy.

Tense.

Wrong.

I handed the glass to Luana.

“Here.”

My voice came out lower than I expected.

She smiled.

“Thank you.”

Isabela was watching me.

And I felt it.

She was seeing.

Everything.

My restlessness.

My nervousness.

My guilt.

I couldn’t even look at her properly.

And that destroyed me.

Because I had always wanted the exact opposite.

I wanted her to see everything in me.

But now…

I couldn’t show anything.

Only hide.

And then…

She said she was leaving.

My heart dropped.

“Already?”

The word came out almost automatically.

As if I were trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

She nodded.

And I tried.

I tried to make her stay.

But I saw it.

I saw it in her eyes.

She wasn’t okay.

Not there.

Not with me.

Not like that.

And that…

That hurt more than anything else.

When she left…

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room.

The door closed.

And the silence remained.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

Irreversible.

I ran a hand over my face, feeling the weight of everything crash down all at once.

Then I turned to Luana.

She looked calm.

Holding the glass.

As if nothing had happened.

As if this was… normal.

But it wasn’t.

None of this was.

“How did this happen, Luana?” I asked.

My voice came out hoarse.

Loaded.

She looked at me.

“What do you mean?”

I ran a hand through my hair.

“How did we let this happen?”

She let out a short laugh.

Ironic.

“Seriously, Noah?”

That already irritated me.

“You really want me to explain how we made our baby?”

My jaw tightened.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Because, as far as I know…” she continued, “you know very well how that happens.”

I took a deep breath.

Trying to stay in control.

“I don’t remember, Luana.”

Silence fell.

Heavy.

“I don’t remember anything from that night,” I repeated. “Nothing.”

She crossed her arms.

“You were drunk.”

“I’ve been drunk before!” I shot back, my voice rising. “And this never happened.”

My heart was racing.

“I don’t remember leaving the bar… I don’t remember going to your place… I don’t remember anything!”

She looked away.

“It happens.”

I shook my head, frustrated.

“No… that’s not normal.”

I stepped a little closer.

“And you knew.”

She looked at me again.

“Knew what?”

“About my feelings for Isabela.”

Silence again.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

“You knew,” I continued. “So why…?”

I hesitated.

But said it.

“Why did you let this happen?”

The change in her expression was immediate.

“Are you blaming me?”

Damn it.

“No… I just…”

“Typical,” she cut in, her voice trembling. “Typical man.”

I ran a hand over my face.

“Luana…”

“You drink, do whatever you want… and then put the blame on the woman!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“That’s exactly what you meant!”

Her voice broke.

And then…

She started crying.

My stomach twisted.

Shit.

“I didn’t want it to be like this…” she said through tears. “I’m scared too…”

The guilt hit me.

Heavy.

Immediate.

“I’m sorry…” I murmured. “I didn’t mean to accuse you.”

She kept crying.

And I…

I felt lost.

Not knowing what to do.

Not knowing what was true.

Not knowing who to believe.

“I don’t know what to do…” I admitted, running a hand over my face.

And then I said it.

The worst part.

The most honest part.

“I don’t know how to tell Isabela.”

Silence fell again.

But this time…

Heavier.

More final.

Luana wiped her tears.

“Our baby is going to be very loved.”

Ours.

The word echoed inside me.

Strong.

Irreversible.

My chest tightened.

“We’ll figure it out… together,” she added.

Together.

My stomach twisted.

And then…

A voice.

Low.

But clear.

From the doorway.

“Ours?”

My heart stopped.

Literally.

I turned slowly.

As if I already knew what I would find.

And there she was.

Isabela.

Standing there.

Still.

Her eyes were fixed on us.

And this time…

There was no doubt.

No attempt to hide.

Only pain.

Pure.

Raw.

Devastating.

“Isa…” I murmured.

But my voice failed.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

She just repeated.

Softer.

More fragile.

As if each word were cut.

“Ours…?”

And in that moment…

I knew.

Everything had just shattered.

And maybe…

There was no fixing it anymore.