Chapter 21

When the door finally opened, Kelvin tried to slam it shut, but I managed to push my way inside. His apartment was a disaster, far beyond the usual mess. Clothes were scattered everywhere, dishes piled high in the sink, and the room smelled stale, as though he hadn’t opened a window in days. The sight of it made my heart constrict painfully in my chest.

"Kelvin..." My voice trembled, barely audible.

“What are you doing here? Go back to your lover," he said coldly, his eyes empty. It felt like he wasn't even looking at me.

“I’m sorry,” I began, my voice cracking. “It was a mistake.”

“Mistake?” he barked, making me flinch. “Are you sleeping with him too?”

“No!” I stepped toward him, but he recoiled, as if my presence repelled him. I didn’t know what to say, how to explain. My mind swirled with excuses that I knew wouldn't matter. How could I justify something I didn't fully understand myself?

"I love you." The words barely made it out before I choked on a sob, tears flooding my vision.

"Don't tell me that!" His voice echoed in the small room. "Did you love me when you were kissing him?!" His words cut deep, leaving me silent, paralyzed by guilt.

He clenched his fists, his eyes wild with hurt. "Of course," he continued, more to himself than to me. "He’s the father of your child, after all. I should’ve known." His tone was bitter, dripping with pain.

"No," I whimpered, but my voice was too weak, too feeble to convince even myself. My body felt heavy, as if the air around me was pressing down on my chest. My vision blurred, and the room began to spin.

"You need to leave," he said, turning his back to me. "I don’t want to see you again."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the dizziness took over, and the world around me faded into black.

I woke up to the sterile scent of disinfectant and the hum of fluorescent lights. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and saw Kelvin standing by the door, his face unreadable. A doctor stood next to me, checking the monitor attached to my bed.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked gently.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, though the only thing I cared about was the fact that Kelvin was still here. My throat felt dry, and my heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to ask him to stay, to listen, to understand.

“Your tests came back normal,” the doctor continued. “It seems the fainting was due to physical or emotional stress. Make sure to rest and take care of yourself.” He glanced at Kelvin, then back at me before leaving us alone in the room.

Before I could speak, Kelvin beat me to it. “I already called Clara... and Leonard.” His voice was like ice, the words slicing through me.

"Kelvin..." I started, but just as I reached for him, the door burst open. Clara rushed in, her face pale with worry, and Leonard followed closely behind.

“Eva! Are you okay?” Clara exclaimed, her hands trembling as she reached for me. I could barely focus on her, my attention fixed on Kelvin, who stood in the corner, jaw clenched, eyes dark.

"I’ll be going now," Kelvin said, his tone emotionless, and my heart sank.

"Thank you for bringing her here," Leonard said, standing too close to me. “I’ll take care of her now.”

Kelvin’s expression darkened. “Of course,” he replied bitterly, "wouldn’t want anything happening to the mother of your child.” His voice dripped with resentment as he shot me one last look before walking out.

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They came in heavy, silent waves as I stared at the door. I felt Clara's hand on my arm, but I couldn't respond. I was too numb.

“Eva…” Leonard’s voice was soft beside me, but it only made me feel worse.

“Just take me home,” I said, my voice flat, barely able to contain the storm of emotions inside me.

Back home, I went straight to my room and locked the door, collapsing onto my bed. There were no more tears left, only a hollow ache that gnawed at my insides. I lay there for hours, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to piece together everything that had gone wrong. Was it my fault for letting Leonard get close? Or was it Leonard’s fault for pushing me to the edge?

Sometime during the night, I drifted off to sleep, only to wake with an overwhelming hunger gnawing at my stomach. I felt the baby kicking gently, a soft reminder of the life growing inside me. “I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered, running my hand over my belly. “Let’s get something to eat.”

It was past midnight, and the house was eerily quiet. I crept down the stairs, hoping to sneak into the kitchen without waking Clara or Leonard. I couldn’t handle another lecture right now.

I opened the fridge and started pulling out whatever I could find, fruit salad, leftover chicken, chips, and cake. I arranged it all on the counter, trying to focus on the food rather than the ache in my chest.

“You gonna eat all that?” Leonard’s voice startled me, and I spun around to see him standing in the doorway. His shirt was half undone, revealing his chest, and I immediately looked away.

“I... I didn’t think you’d be here,” I stammered, my heart racing again.

“I couldn’t leave you alone like this,” he said softly, stepping into the kitchen. “Not after everything that happened.”

"I’ve been fine on my own," I replied defensively. "Clara’s been helping."

He sighed and walked closer, his expression softening. “I’m sorry, Eva. I had no idea you were in a relationship. I never meant to come between you two.”

His words only made the guilt weigh heavier. “I don’t want to talk about this right now,” I muttered, grabbing the tray of food.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. But let me at least help.” He took the chicken from me and started prepping it, his movements quick and efficient. I watched in silence as he worked, unsure of how to feel.

“You sit,” he said, pulling a stool out for me. “I’ll take care of everything.”

I sat down, too exhausted to argue. As Leonard worked, I realized I’d never seen this side of him. He was calm, collected, even kind. Why now? Why, when my whole life was falling apart?

“I’m sorry for everything,” Leonard said quietly, his back still turned. “I just want to be here for you... and for our child.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly overwhelmed by the complexity of everything. “I need to be alone,” I said softly, standing up with the tray.

He looked at me, confused. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” I replied, avoiding his gaze. “I just... need to think.”

Without waiting for a response, I walked out of the kitchen and back to my room, closing the door behind me. The food sat untouched in my lap as I stared out the window, lost in a sea of regret and uncertainty.