I couldn’t go home.
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The moment I left Amelia’s house last night, everything in me was on edge, like my chest had been pried open and something raw was exposed. The thought of going back to Vikki, to her questions, her hands, her empty comfort, it made my skin crawl.
So I drove. Aimlessly, at first. Past the office, past the bars I usually liked, past the quiet streets where the city’s noise dimmed into the hum of night. And then, without thinking, I found myself outside Lewis’s apartment building.
When he opened the door and saw me standing there like a wreck, he didn’t ask questions. He’d just stepped aside and said, “Yeah, no problem, man. You know you’re welcome here anytime.”
I only managed a nod of gratitude before heading straight to the guest room. My head was a mess, and all I needed was silence.
But silence didn’t bring peace.
All night I tossed and turned, replaying the image of that little girl in Amelia’s arms. Her soft hair, the faintest glimpse of her cheek, and that mark.
The exact same mark I bore, passed down from generations in my family. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could mistake. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could ignore.
Could I be delusional? Could it just be a coincidence?
That child… that mark.
No. No coincidence.
I knew what I saw. And the more I turned it over, the more my head pounded. By dawn, I was sitting upright in bed, fists clenched, heart slamming against my chest.
By morning, my head was pounding. Sleep had been impossible, and my body felt like it was vibrating from too many unspoken questions.
When the sun finally bled through the curtains, I dragged myself out of bed and to the kitchen like a zombie.
“Morning, sunshine,” Lewis teased, looking far too chipper for someone who’d stayed up drinking half a pot of coffee.
“God, my head is banging,” I muttered, yanking the fridge open and grabbing the carton of milk. “You got aspirin or something?”
“Yeah, check the meds cabinet,” he said, motioning with his mug.
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I found the pills, popped two, and chased them down with a gulp of cold milk from his fridge. Still, the pounding in my skull matched the storm in my chest.
Lewis tilted his head. “So… what’s the deal? Cause last time I checked, you weren’t drunk last night. Hangovers don’t just appear out of nowhere.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t,” I muttered. My throat tightened. I hesitated. Should I tell him? Should I drag him into this?
Would he think I was crazy?
But my chest burned with the weight of it. If I didn’t let it out, I’d explode.
“I went to Amelia’s house yesterday,” I said slowly. “Unannounced.”
Lewis raised a brow. “Okay… and?”
“She was holding this little girl,” I continued. My voice cracked, surprising even me. “She was asleep, so I didn’t get a good look at her face, but… she had my birthmark. Same spot. Same shape. And you know that mark, Lewis, it’s not random. It’s been in my family for generations.”
Lewis froze for a split second before taking a big gulp of coffee. Too big. Too fast.
“And I confronted Amelia about it,” I went on, leaning on the counter. “And she was defensive. She kept dodging, denying. Hell, she called the girl her niece.” I let out a humorless laugh. “Her niece. The last time I checked, Amelia didn’t even have a sibling.”
Lewis muttered something that sounded a lot like “oh.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Wait. Hold up. What do you mean, oh?”
“Oh as in… okay, I’m listening,” he said quickly, but his eyes avoided mine.
“No. You said it differently. And then you drowned yourself in coffee.” I studied him, my suspicion flaring. “Lewis, do you maybe want to tell me something?”
He scratched his neck. “Something like what?”
He shifted in his seat, scratching at his neck.
“Something you know that I don’t?”
“There’s nothing to say, really,” he muttered, scratching his neck again.
My chest tightened. “Ah–ha. You do know something!”
“No, I don’t,” he said too quickly. He scratched his neck again.
“You’re lying.” I jabbed a finger at him. “You do that weird neck scratching thing every time you’re lying. Come on, Lewis. Tell me what you know.”
“I really don’t want to be part of this,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead.
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“Come on. Lewis. I’m your best friend. Remember?”
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He set down his mug a little too hard, coffee sloshing over and spilling on the table. “Alright, fine! Damn it, you don’t let up, do you?”
“Not when it comes to this,” I snapped. “Now talk.”
Lewis dragged both hands down his face before sighing in defeat. “Okay. You were right.”
My breath caught. “Right about what?”
“The girl you saw Amelia with… the one with the mark.” He paused, as if the words themselves weighed too much on his lips. “She’s your daughter.”
The kitchen went silent.The words punched the air from my lungs.
I blinked, trying to process. “She’s… mine?” The word felt jagged in my mouth. Rage and pain collided in my chest, scorching hot. She’d hidden it. She’d hidden her.
Shock and pain knifed through me so sharply I swayed where I stood. My chest burned like someone had struck a match inside it.
I managed to croak, “How long have you known?”
Lewis winced. “See, this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything-”
“How. Long.” I gritted.
Lewis exhaled, resigned. “The day you asked me to help bring her to the office. That was when I realized it,” he muttered not meeting my eyes.”
I gripped the counter so hard my knuckles whitened. She’d let me sit in meetings, laugh with her, work alongside her, all while keeping my own flesh and blood a secret from me.
I was so angry it hurt. release. I couldn’t stay still. I needed to move, to get out of here before I broke something.
I stormed into the guest bathroom, yanked on the shower, and stepped under the freezing spray. My head dropped forward, water streaming down my face, and I stared at the tiles as if they’d give me answers.
Why, Amelia? Why keep this from me? Did you think I wouldn’t want her? Did you think I didn’t deserve to
know?
The more I thought about it, the hotter my chest burned. Memories flooded me, her laughter, the way her body fit against mine, the softness in her eyes when she thought I wasn’t looking. And now, the thought of her holding my daughter, raising her alone, deliberately cutting me out, it was unbearable.
By the time I stepped out of the shower, towel around my waist, I’d made up my mind.
No more dodging. No more lies.
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She was going to tell me the truth, whether she wanted to or not.
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I dressed quickly, every movement sharp with tension, grabbed my keys, and left Lewis’s apartment without another word.
By the time I reached Montgomery Conglomerate, I was a live wire ready to snap. Employees scattered out of my way as I marched through the lobby, their whispers chasing me down the hall.
I didn’t care.
I needed answers.
I reached Amelia’s office and didn’t bother knocking. I shoved the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I stormed straight through the corridors, ignoring the curious looks from staff, and shoved open her office door.
She jerked up from her desk, startled. “Edmund? you’re here.” She offered me a warm smile.
The sight of her, calm, composed, like she hadn’t just detonated my life, made my vision blur with fury.
I slammed the door shut behind me. “We need to talk.”
The door slammed shut behind me.
“We need to talk,” I bit out.
Her eyes flickered. Was she nervous?
“About what?”
She blinked, clearly rattled. “I don’t know what you’re-”
“Cut the act!” I roared, slamming my fist against the desk. Papers scattered. She flinched, eyes wide, but I didn’t care. The storm inside me had broken free.”Don’t play dumb with me, Amelia. That girl. The one you tried to pass off as your niece.”
Her face paled. “Edmund…”
“She’s mine, isn’t she?” The words exploded out of me before I could stop them.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her hands trembled against the desk.
I stepped closer, my chest heaving. “You lied to me. All this time. You let me sit across from you, work beside you, while you hid my own daughter from me.”
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. She shook her head, as if denying the inevitable.
The sight gutted me. A part of me wanted to pull her close, to wipe the tears away. But the rage won.
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“Tell me the truth, Amelia,” I whispered, my voice breaking as the silence stretched between us. “Tell me… is she mine?”
Her face crumpled, and then she broke. She burst into tears, the sound slicing straight through my chest like a blade.
And I knew.
I already knew.
AD
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
