Chapter 50: My Fear

I woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of Grace humming softly in the kitchen. The morning light filtered through the curtains, warm and inviting, but I felt anything but comforted. My body ached from the restless night, and my heart was still heavy with dread.

As I sat up on the couch, I noticed Grace setting a plate of toast and eggs on the coffee table. She caught my eye and smiled faintly, but the concern in her expression was unmistakable.

“Morning,” she said, sitting beside me and handing me a mug of tea. “How are you feeling?”

I took the mug, holding it tightly between my hands. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Still scared. Still confused.”

Grace studied me for a moment, then leaned forward, her tone firm but gentle. “Daphne, you need to go back. You can’t keep running away from this. You have to face him and confirm everything.”

I looked down at the tea, the liquid rippling slightly as my hands trembled. “What if I’m wrong, Grace? What if it’s not him, and I’m just... projecting?”

“Then you’ll know, and you can move on,” she said, her voice steady. “But if it is him, you need to figure out where to go from here. Hiding won’t make it any easier.”

I sighed, setting the mug down. She was right, of course. Grace always had a way of cutting through my fears with logic, even when it was the last thing I wanted to hear.

“Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go.”

I showered and changed into Grace's clothes after breakfast and kissed her goodbye.

I stepped out of Grace’s apartment building, my stomach twisting with nerves. The crisp morning air did little to calm me as I adjusted my coat and glanced around. That’s when I saw Jeffrey, leaning casually against a sleek black car parked at the curb.

“Jeffrey?” I asked, my voice laced with surprise.

He straightened, offering me a polite nod. “Good morning, Miss Anderson. Collins asked me to pick you up. Mr. Jayden’s grandfather will be arriving at the house soon, and your presence has been requested.”

My heart sank. Of course. The family. The contract. There was no escaping it, not even after everything that had happened.

“Is Jayden...” I trailed off, unsure how to phrase the question.

“Mr. Jayden is still resting,” Jeffrey replied, his tone carefully neutral. “The effects of the aphrodisiac seem to have worn off, but we decided not to disturb him.”

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The drive to the mansion was silent, the tension in the air palpable. I kept my gaze fixed on the passing scenery, my thoughts a chaotic mess. By the time we pulled up to the grand estate, my hands were clammy, and my heart was racing.

As I stepped inside, the familiar grandeur of the mansion felt oppressive rather than comforting. Jeffrey excused himself to attend to other matters, leaving me standing in the foyer. For a moment, I considered turning around and leaving, but I knew I couldn’t.

I made my way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. When I reached Jayden’s bedroom door, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open.

The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh morning light. Jayden lay sprawled on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily. Relief washed over me as I approached him, my eyes scanning his face for any sign of injury.

I leaned down, placing two fingers against his neck to check his pulse. It was steady, strong. 

Oh! Thank goodness he's alive!

Letting out a shaky breath, I stepped into the bathroom and dampened a towel with cool water. Returning to his bedside, I gently wiped his face, the tension in his features easing slightly at the touch.

It was only when he stirred that I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first but quickly sharpening as they landed on me.

“Daphne?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and confusion.

“You’re awake,” I said, pulling back slightly.

He winced, pressing a hand to his head. “What... What happened? Why does my head feel like it’s been run over by a truck?”

“You don’t remember?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Jayden frowned, his brows furrowing as he struggled to recall the events of the previous night. “I remember dinner... and then...” His gaze shifted to me, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re about to accuse me of something?”

I straightened, clutching the damp towel tightly. “Because I know the truth, Jayden. About you. About the bar. About... the tattoo.”

His confusion deepened, a scowl forming on his lips. “What are you talking about? What tattoo?”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting in knots. “The cross. The one on your chest. It’s the same as the man I... the man from that night.”

Jayden’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “You’ve lost your mind,” he said coldly. “I don’t have a tattoo. I’ve never had a tattoo.”

“Yes, you do,” I insisted, my voice rising. “I saw it last night. Don’t you dare lie to me, Jayden!”

“Did you try to take advantage of me yesternight?" His eyes narrowed, his tone sharp and biting. “So this is your plan? Pin your child on me because you can’t handle the consequences of your own actions?”

The accusation hit me like a slap to the face, tears stinging my eyes. “How can you say that?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “You’re the father, Jayden! Whether you want to admit it or not, it’s the truth!”

Jayden scoffed, his demeanor icy and unyielding. “You’re delusional,” he said. “And frankly, I’m tired of your games.”

“I just can't wait for this contract to end." He mumbled under his breath but I could still hear him.

Something inside me snapped. Without thinking, I grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked it open, the buttons popping off and scattering across the floor.

“There!” I said, pointing at the faint, cross-shaped mark on his chest. “Explain that, Jayden!”

He looked down, his expression shifting from anger to confusion. His brows knitted together as though he had never noticed it before. For a moment, he seemed genuinely stunned, his fingers brushing over the mark as if seeing it for the first time. His lips parted, but whatever words he wanted to say got lost in the cold, as a cruel smirk plastered on his face.

“It’s not a tattoo,” he said finally, his voice quieter but no less defensive.“It’s a scar. I got it years ago. You’re reaching, Daphne.”

“Don’t you see?” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “That scar,...tattoo, whatever you want to call it…it’s the same as the one I saw that night. You’re the man from the bar. You’re the father of my child.”

Jayden’s gaze hardened, his lips curling into a bitter smile. He wasn't looking at me, he was looking above my head “Even if that were true…which it isn’t, you should be grateful. I’ve told the family you’re pregnant to help you save face. You should be thanking me, not making baseless accusations.”

His words cut deeper than any blade, leaving me speechless and trembling with anger. Before I could respond, he stood, brushing past me as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience.

He walked into the bathroom, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone in the room, my heart shattered into a million pieces.

My hands clenched into a fist, my nails digging my palms as tears streamed down my face as I sank to the floor, the weight of his words crushing me. My breaths reduced to shallow gasps as I pressed a hand to my stomach, the faint flutter of life within me a bittersweet reminder of the storm I was now facing.

How did it come to this? How had the man I once thought I could trust become a stranger so cold and unfeeling?

Momma's gonna protect you, Love. You'd never have the life I had.