Chapter 4 A Trace of the Past

The morning after her tears had soaked the silk pillow, Elina woke up with swollen eyes and a hollow heart. She had barely slept. Her body was exhausted, but her mind kept replaying his confused expression when she mentioned that night.

He didn't remember.

Not the garden.

Not the rain.

Not the kiss that had ignited something deep inside her—a fire that led to the baby growing in her now.

She placed her palm over her belly. "One day, he'll know. He'll remember. And when he does, I hope it won't be too late."

Downstairs, Liam stood alone in the kitchen, staring at the steam rising from his untouched coffee. The memory had returned like a flash flood—brief, scattered, incomplete. A woman. Wet hair. That whisper.

"Don't fall in love with me…"

His jaw clenched.

Could it really have been Elina?

That night, he hadn't even seen her face clearly. It was too dark. His mind too clouded with alcohol and rage. He had kissed her to forget another woman, yet now, the memory of those lips refused to fade.

Was I that careless?

He grabbed his phone and opened the gallery, scrolling back through photos from the gala. Nothing. His personal assistant had once told him he'd left early, but no one had ever said anything more.

Liam felt the tension building behind his eyes.

He hated not knowing.

Elina stepped into the room, her face composed but distant. She was dressed simply in a light sweater and a soft skirt that concealed her bump completely.

Their eyes met.

"Good morning," she said quietly.

"Do you have time today?" he asked abruptly.

She blinked. "What for?"

"I need to take you somewhere."

Elina hesitated, unsure if this was another cold errand or something more.

"Sure," she finally said, masking her confusion.

He didn't tell her where they were going.

They drove in silence through the city, tension thick between them. When the car stopped, Elina stared out the window and gasped.

The gala venue.

"Why are we here?" she asked, turning to him.

"I need to remember something," Liam said.

Her heart skipped.

He was trying.

They entered the garden through a side gate. It had changed—roses were blooming where the ivy once crept along the stone—but Elina could still feel the memory in her bones.

"This is where we met," she said softly.

Liam looked around, searching for a trace of the memory buried in his fogged past. "I don't remember much. Just… rain. A kiss. A voice."

Elina stood at the center of the garden, under the arch of twisted vines.

"You were angry," she said, her voice trembling. "You looked lost. And I… I think I was, too."

He turned to her. "Why didn't you tell me it was you?"

"I tried," she whispered. "But you looked at me like a stranger. Like I didn't matter. And then… everything happened so fast."

He stepped closer. "Did we…?"

"Yes," she said, holding his gaze.

Silence.

Raw. Exposing.

Liam turned away, raking his hand through his hair.

"Damn it," he muttered.

"Do you regret it?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.

He looked at her sharply. "I don't even remember it. How can I regret something I didn't even know happened?"

The words hit her like a slap. She turned her face, blinking hard.

"I remember everything," she said. "And for me… it mattered."

He exhaled, the weight of confusion and frustration pressing down on him.

"Elina," he said after a pause, "if this is some twisted way to make me stay—"

"No!" she snapped. "This isn't manipulation, Liam. You may not remember, but that night changed everything for me. And now… I'm carrying a part of it."

He froze.

His world tilted.

"What?"

She swallowed hard. "I'm pregnant. And the baby is yours."

Liam's breath left his lungs like a punch. He stared at her, as if the words couldn't make sense.

"No. That's not possible."

"It is," she said firmly. "I haven't been with anyone else. That night was the only time."

He shook his head. "Why would you hide this?"

"Because you didn't believe me. You still don't! I was scared you'd think I planned it all. That I used the baby to trap you."

He turned away, fists clenched.

She stepped forward. "I didn't ask to marry you. Your father forced it. I wanted to raise this child on my own. But now—now you have a right to know."

His voice came out hoarse. "So I'm going to be a father?"

"You already are."

The air was heavy between them. Elina's eyes burned, but she refused to cry.

Liam said nothing for a long moment. Then he turned to her, and for the first time, his mask cracked.

"Why didn't I see it?" he whispered.

"Because you never looked at me long enough to see anything," she said, voice tight. "I was just your enemy's daughter. A name on a contract. But I'm more than that. And so is this child."

Liam stepped back, struggling to process everything.

"I need time," he finally said.

"You always say that," Elina replied. "But time won't stop this baby from growing. Time won't erase what happened. And time won't fix what you're too scared to face."

She walked past him, leaving him standing in the middle of the memory he didn't want to remember.

Back in the penthouse, Elina collapsed on the bed, drained. She had told him the truth. Now all she could do was wait—for him to accept it, or walk away forever

Liam stayed in the garden long after she left, staring at the vines overhead. That night… that woman… her voice… it was her.

Elina.

He hadn't just married a stranger.

He had married the woman he never truly forgot.

And now… he was about to become a father.

But could he handle the truth?