shattered heart

MARGARET POV

Days passed and still no sign of Lewis.

The room felt stifling, the air heavy with my anxiety. I had searched every nook and cranny, but my songbook remained elusive. It was my refuge—a place where I poured my emotions and feelings into lyrics, finding solace in the melodies. Now, it had vanished, leaving me adrift.

I hadn't written a song in a long time, but I was sure the book was still in this house.

It was my priceless treasure.

Then, I heard the sound of a car driving in, so I walked downstairs, hoping it would be Lewis.

I reached the sitting room, and I saw Lewis entering the house .I smiled brightly.

He wasn't in casual wear. Maybe he will stay at home since I have a month and a few weeks until my delivery date.

I walked hurriedly to him with a beaming smile, as I wanted a hug.

Instead, he handed me a newspaper, his anger palpable.

"What is this, Margaret?" he demanded, thrusting the paper at me.

"What is what?" I asked confusedly.

"Why don't you see what it is? he said angrily.

I looked at the newspaper, collected it, and opened it. My eyes widened as I couldn't imagine it.

I glanced down, my heart plummeting. On the front page, Aaron and I stood together in front of the cinema. The headline screamed, "Who is the pregnant lady with the rich heir, Aaron Liam? Is this his girlfriend or wife?"

I turned the pages, and there were other pictures apart from when I was in the hospital.

At least no one knows it's me.

Lewis's eyes bore into mine. "What were you doing with Aaron?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"It was a coincidence," I stammered. "We were just sitting beside each other in the cinema."

His anger flared. "Did he know it was you?" he pressed, closing the distance between us.

I hesitated, then whispered, "Yes."

Lewis exploded, pacing the room. Panic clawed at my chest.

"What else does Aaron know? Lewis asked.

I was pissed off and felt a fire of rage burning within me.This was the reason he came home?

"When was the last time you were home?" I challenged, my voice rising.

"In case you have forgotten and if you are blind! I'm seven months pregnant, Lewis! Count the days—you've hardly been here!"

Lewis stood there, his anger etched into every line of his face. I had yelled, my desperation spilling over, and now I awaited his response.

"What is wrong with you?" I had shouted, my voice raw. "If you're so busy writing songs, do it at home! I'm a soloist too, and I take breaks. But you, Lewis—you look greater than ever!"

His silence was deafening. I didn't dare meet his eyes. Had my words reached him? Had they pierced through his armor of indifference? I pleaded silently for a sign, a gesture—anything.

"Just stay with me till I deliver our child," I implored, my tears flowing freely now. "Even in the nights, I beg of you, Lewis."

He remained still, a statue carved from my shattered hopes. Would he honor my plea? Could he set aside his pride and be there for me, for our unborn child?

"You're not the first person to get pregnant," he finally said, and the words struck like a blade. My heart clenched and was shattered.

"What?" I whispered, raising my head to look at him.

"How do I know if you didn't meet Aaron after we got married?" he accused. "Am I really... the father of that child?"

My hand swung, and I slapped him. The slap echoed through the room. Regret surged, but it was too late. I covered my mouth, horrified by my own actions.

"Sorry," I pleaded, but Lewis smirked, cold and unyielding. He turned away, walking out of our home—the home that had once held our dreams.

I followed, pounding on the car window, begging for forgiveness. But he drove away, leaving me with my shattered heart and the echo of my own screams. 

************************************

I opened my eyes and I sat up, the drip in my hand a lifeline to reality. There was no one around—just the hum of machines and the echo of my own thoughts.

The door creaked open, and there he stood: Aaron Liam. His black suit contrasted sharply with the white of his shirt. His gaze bore into mine, and I sensed the weight of his presence—the expensive aura that clung to him like a second skin.

With one of his hands in his trousers pocket, he walked towards me.

"We meet again, Margaret Adrian. But I just didn't expect our next meeting to be in the hospital." He said it with a straight face. His voice was deep, like he ate the whole apple that Eve gave to Adam.

I struggled to recall how I'd ended up here. The last memory was me screaming in front of my house. "What am I doing here?" I asked.

"A driver brought you here. You took a taxi from your house, saying you wanted to go to the amusement park.

But then you fainted in the car, and he brought you here to the hospital."

"Last time you were here, I informed the staff not to reveal that you were here.

So, when you were brought here again, I was informed that you were here, Aaron said.

I tried to piece it together, but my head throbbed. "Thank you," I murmured.

He scoffed. "Thanks for what? I'm not the one who saved you—the driver did. But he's outside the room."

I pressed on. "Thank you for hiding my identity and taking care of the hospital bills."

His gaze flickered. "If you really want to thank me," he said, turning away. "Stay here until you give birth. You'll be given the utmost care."