CHAPTER 34

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed faintly as I navigated the aisles, tossing items into my basket with a mix of purpose and indulgence. Cravings were no joke, and tonight it was pickles, chocolate ice cream, and sour candy—a bizarre combination that made the cashier raise her eyebrows every time I checked out.

As I reached for a jar of pickles on the top shelf, my hand trembled slightly. My growing belly made some movements a little awkward, and I couldn't help but glance down at the small but undeniable bump. It was surreal seeing it there, a reminder of the life growing inside me, a life Alexander hadn't wanted.

I gritted my teeth at the thought of him. He hadn't crossed my mind in weeks—not because I didn't think about him, but because I forced myself not to. My plan demanded distance, emotional and physical, so when the time came, he wouldn't suspect a thing.

But fate, as cruel as it often is, seemed determined to test my resolve.

As I turned the corner of the aisle, my basket bumping against my hip, I froze. There he was. Alexander.

He looked as polished as ever, his tailored shirt fitting him perfectly, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his chiseled jaw tightened when his eyes met mine. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. My emotions collided in a whirlwind—shock, anger, resentment, longing.

I hated him for what he had done, yet my body betrayed me, heat pooling in my chest at the sight of him. He still had that pull over me, the way he always had, and I despised myself for it.

I snapped out of it quickly. This wasn't part of the plan. He couldn't think I still cared, couldn't know how much he still affected me. Without a word, I rolled my eyes dramatically and walked past him.

But Alexander wasn't the type to let things go.

"Isabella," he said, his deep voice stopping me in my tracks.

I kept walking, my pulse quickening.

"Isabella," he called again, louder this time.

I spun around, my lips curling into a sneer. "What do you want, Alexander?"

His eyes flicked downward, landing on my belly. There was no mistaking it now—I was visibly pregnant, and his reaction was immediate. His jaw tightened, his gaze darkening as his lips pressed into a thin line.

"So," he said, his voice low, "you decided to keep the baby."

I crossed my arms over my chest, my expression icy. "And why would that matter to you? You didn't want this baby, remember? You made it very clear what you wanted me to do."

He flinched, and I felt a surge of satisfaction. Good. Let him feel guilty.

"Isabella, I was—"

"You were what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "Scared? Selfish? A coward? You didn't care about what I wanted, Alexander. You made the decision for me. You sent me money to get rid of this baby like it was nothing. So don't stand there and act like you care now."

His eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, he looked almost human. "I made a mistake," he admitted. "I was scared, yes, but I was also trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" I laughed bitterly. "You mean protect yourself. Protect your perfect little family from finding out about your affair. You didn't care about me, Alexander. You just didn't want to get caught."

"That's not true," he said, stepping closer. "You know that's not true."

"Do I?" I snapped. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks pretty damn true. You lied to me, Alexander. You told me you were separated. You made me believe we had a future together, and the whole time you were married. Married with two kids!"

He winced at the venom in my voice but didn't deny it.

"I regret lying to you," he said quietly. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, congratulations," I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "You've done a fantastic job of it."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with tension, a minefield of unresolved feelings and unspoken words.

"I never stopped thinking about you," he said finally, his voice so soft I almost didn't hear him.

"Don't," I said, holding up a hand. "Don't you dare say that to me. You don't get to miss me, Alexander. You don't get to feel anything for me. You made your choice, and it wasn't me."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn't quite place. Regret? Guilt? Love? I didn't care anymore.

"I don't hate you because you're married," I said, my voice trembling with emotion. "I hate you because you made me love you. You made me believe in something that was never real. And now you want to stand here and pretend like you care? Like you're some tragic hero who didn't have a choice? Save it, Alexander. Save it for someone who still believes your lies."

I turned to leave, but his next words stopped me in my tracks.

"I do care, Isabella. And I care about that baby."

I spun around, my fury bubbling over. "You don't get to care! You don't get to show up here and suddenly decide you want to be involved. You lost that right the moment you told me to get rid of this baby. You don't get to have it both ways, Alexander."

His face fell, and for a moment, he looked utterly defeated. But I didn't care. He deserved every ounce of pain he was feeling.

"Stay away from me," I said, my voice cold and final. "Stay away from me, and stay away from this baby. We don't need you."

Without waiting for a response, I walked away, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't stop until I was outside, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap. My hands trembled as I clutched my basket, my mind racing with everything that had just happened.

Seeing Alexander again had shaken me more than I wanted to admit. But I couldn't let him derail my plan. He couldn't know how much he still affected me, couldn't see the cracks in my armor.

Because the game wasn't over yet. And I wasn't done with him.