Chapter 113

Ivonne sat at the edge of the guest room bed, her hands cradling her lower belly protectively. The air was still, yet her thoughts spun like a hurricane. The doctor’s words replayed in her mind like a taunt.

“You’re pregnant.”

The impossible made real.

She stared at the calendar on her phone, swiping back through the weeks with trembling fingers. She calculated again. And again.

It wasn't adding up. She hadn't slept with Tobias until weeks following the date of conception.

Which meant…

She faced Lincoln, standing in the doorway with two mugs of tea, one of which was still full.

"I've done the math," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

Lincoln's eyebrow shot up. "What?"

"The baby. I conceived before I met Tobias. Which means." She gasped. "It's yours."

Lincoln froze, mist from the cup curling like a ghost between them.

"That cannot be," he whispered.

"It is," Ivonne said. "Consider it. That night. It was shortly before the accident. We were together. That must have been it."

He sat down gently beside her, putting the mugs away. "But Ivonne. we were informed you had no womb. We both thought so."

Her eyes tightened with stern resolve. "What if that was a lie?"

Lincoln's eyes snapped at her. "You think the doctor—?"

"I want to know the truth," she said. "All of it."

They returned to the same hospital where Ivonne had previously been told that her reproductive organs were damaged. The antiseptic smell and the clanging of distant trolleys made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

Dr. Emory sat sternly in his chair, now grayer, his white lab coat worn and sullied with age and superiority.

Lincoln cut to the chase. "We're reopening Ivonne's case. Something's not right."

Emory's gaze shifted back and forth between them, unease simmering.

"You informed her she had no womb," Lincoln continued, voice low and bitter. "But she's pregnant. And we have reason to believe it was before our divorce."

The doctor's jaw clenched. "That's. impossible. I had clean scans."

"Do you have them?" Ivonne said icily. "Because I'd like to see them."

Emory hesitated. "Some of the records were. unfortunately deleted in the database transfer two years ago."

"How convenient," Lincoln sneered. "Tell me, doctor—who paid you?"

Emory went pale. "I don't know what you mean.".

Lincoln's height suddenly grew enormous as he stood there. "I was married to her. I divorced her on your word. She's pregnant now and the timeline isn't a lie. So I'll ask you one more time: who bribed you to come up with that diagnosis?"

There was silence. Then the doctor breathed softly, "Allison."

Ivonne's breath was held.

Lincoln's face became stone-like. "Allison did this?

"She told me she wanted you to be free. That Ivonne was holding you back. She made me make a surreptitious donation. to recommend a false diagnosis. I had no idea she'd go that far."

Lincoln clenched his teeth. "She didn't just lie. She destroyed everything."

That night, Lincoln stood outside Allison's townhouse, fire burning in his eyes. He pressed the bell once. Twice.

She smiled and opened the door, instantly melting at the expression on his face.

"Lincoln. I—"

"Save it," he growled. "You destroyed my marriage. You lied. You bribed a doctor to forge medical records. You wrecked a woman's life—a woman's and a man's life, including mine."

She began to stutter. "I did it for you—because I loved you. She was never intended for you."

"And who was it that gave you the authority to make this decision?" he bellowed. "You think love is denying someone's potential for happiness?"

Allison winced, shivering in horror.

But Lincoln was just getting warmed up.

"There's more, isn't there?" he growled. "The crash. You were involved in it. Weren't you?"

She stiffened up.

He leaned in on her. "You sabotaged the brakes. Ivonne's car. the night that we lost our baby.".

Tears welled up in Allison's eyes. "I didn't mean to kill the child. I only wanted to scare her. To scare her off."

Lincoln slammed his eyes shut, rage and grief thundering in his heart.

"I'll personally make you pay for every deception," he breathed.

That night, Allison was arrested.

The charges were piled high: forgery of medical reports, criminal negligence, attempted manslaughter.

Lincoln didn't simply stand by idle and watch her being snatched away from him. He didn't have to. Justice had finally dawned.

Meanwhile, rumors were already circulating all over town.

Tobias learned of Ivonne's pregnancy from one of his cousins. At first, he thought it was a joke. A rumor to prank his friends has already broken mind.

But upon verification, he dropped the phone.

She was pregnant.

His Ivonne.

It didn't compute. She hadn't had a womb. The doctor had explained to her. She had accepted it.

But the facts remained the facts.

And deep in the belly, something moved. Something old and churchy.

He knew.

He just knew.

It was his child.

He tracked her schedule. She was at a coffee down the pack.

He picked her up outside the coffee shop during sundown.

She emerged, and she jumped.

"Tobias?" she breathed.

He stepped closer. "Ivonne. Please. I need to speak to you."

She scanned the room, arms crossing over her belly almost automatically. "This is not a good time."

"I know you're pregnant."

She tensed. "How do you know?"

"I heard. I know the dates. I know what you think. but Ivonne, the child is mine."

She glared at him, eyes wide. "No. That can't be. I calculated. I became pregnant before I met you."

Tobias swallowed. "That's not true."

"What are you saying?" she growled. "You and I did not meet until weeks after—"

"You think you met me then," he replied. "But the reality is. we met before that evening. At the Moonlight Gala."

Her breath hung in mid-air.

"No," she whispered.

"Yes," he replied. "You were tipsy. I was. drawn to you. I had no idea then. But I do now."

He moved forward, heartbeat thudding. "You're my second-chance mate."

Ivonne's eyes overflowed with tears. "Stop."

"I had no idea you were you that evening. I just thought you were some enigmatic guest. But you—you were thinking of somebody else."

Her knees were weak.

"You were thinking I was Lincoln," he finished.

There was thunderous silence between them.

Ivonne's voice trembled. "You mean that evening. at the gala. that was you?"

He nodded slowly. "I tried to tell you afterwards. But when you suddenly reappeared in my life, I thought perhaps. perhaps destiny had provided us with a second way. I did not know how to say it."

Ivonne gasped for breath. "I do not recall much of that evening. Just glimpses. Music. Wine. A man with gray eyes."

Tobias's voice trembled. "It was me."

Ivonne moved back. "You knew. And you did not say anything to me?"

"I didn't want to confuse you. You were so sure of Lincoln. So committed. I kept it inside till now because I didn't think it mattered. But now. it matters."

She turned around, heart racing in her chest like waves crashing against rocks.

"I can't do this," she panted.

Tobias outstretched his hand. "Ivonne, I'm sorry. I was in the wrong to send you packing. I was angry. But I never lost love for you. I swear."

She spun round to face him, her eyes blazing. "You didn't send me packing. You threw me out. In the rain. Like trash.".

"I know," he answered, cracking. "And I regret it every second. But I'm here now. I'll be whatever you need. A father. A protector. I'll never walk away again."

Ivonne's voice quavered. "But I don't trust you."

That halted him.

"You tell me you love me," she went on. "But when the first storm hit, you walked away and left me drowning. And now that I'm standing up again, you want me to forget everything?"

He had no answer.

She pulled her hand away. “The baby may be yours. But my heart. isn’t ready.”

He nodded slowly, painfully. “Okay. Then I’ll wait. However long it takes.”

Ivonne turned and walked away, hand over her belly, her spine straight even as tears fell.

Behind her, Tobias stood alone beneath a sky streaked in bruised red.

Later that night, Ivonne stared at herself in the mirror.

Her mind fragmented between then and now. Between them. Between hope and betrayal.

A miracle had grown inside of her. A child who shouldn't have existed. A child born of fate, of wonder, maybe something greater than biology.

And now the fight wasn't merely for her heart.

It was for the truth of it.

And the war hadn't ended.

Not even close.