Chapter 18
Roxanne
Nothing is working out. I can’t bring myself to leave my apartment or go to work. I will stay home for the next few days.
I try to tell myself it's because I need time to think, but that's only partially true. The real reason is that I can't bear the thought of seeing Asher Sterling.
The mere thought of seeing him at work after all that’s happened feels like torture.
Not after the way he looked at me and the things he said. Not after he stood in my living room and offered to buy our child from me like I was some desperate stranger willing to sell pieces of herself for the right price.
The memory makes my stomach twist. I wasn’t this hurt or broken when Tristan cheated on me. This is so much worse.
Pregnant by a man who thinks the worst of me. It’s like my whole world is slowly falling apart.
I sit curled against the headboard of my couch with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders despite the mild weather. A cup of tea grows cold in my hands while my laptop drones quietly in the background with a random YouTube video playing.
I haven't watched a single minute of it. My thoughts keep circling back to the same place. The baby and the impossible future waiting ahead of me.
I rest a hand unconsciously against my stomach. Nothing has changed physically. I don't look pregnant. I don't even feel pregnant.
Yet somehow everything is different now. There's a tiny life growing inside me.
My child. Our child.
The thought should fill me with joy. Instead, fear presses heavily against my ribs.
I don't know how to do this. God, I barely know how I'm managing now.
My salary covers Felix's tuition, our apartment, groceries, bills, and the endless list of expenses that come with raising a teenager in New York City.
There isn't much left afterward. There never is.
A baby changes everything. Daycare. Medical expenses. Formula. Clothes. A bigger apartment eventually. The list keeps growing every time I think about it.
I close my eyes.
For months, I've been drowning beneath debt while desperately pretending otherwise. Now there's this too.
The irony almost makes me laugh. Tears sting unexpectedly behind my eyes. And the worst is that I'd allowed myself to hope. That might be the most embarrassing part of all.
I had imagined telling Asher. Not exactly like this. I had imagined shock. Maybe panic and even fear. Yet somewhere in those fantasies, we'd eventually figure it out together.
Maybe co-parenting or some sort of partnership. And if I'm being completely honest with myself...something more.
The image comes uninvited. Asher is sitting across a breakfast table. Felix rolling his eyes at something sarcastic he'd said. A baby in someone's arms and the laughter and warmth unique to a family.
The picture is so vivid it physically hurts. Yet, it was never real.
Just another stupid dream I'd built around a man who never promised me anything. A man who still sees me as a gold-digger, no matter how many times reality proves otherwise.
I swipe angrily at my eyes.
How pathetic.
A knock sounds softly against my bedroom door. I immediately straighten. “Come in.”
Felix pokes his head inside. His dark eyes narrow almost instantly.
“You've been in here all day.”
I force a smile. “I've been relaxing.”
“You're terrible at lying.”
I huff out a small laugh despite myself.
Felix enters fully and drops onto the edge of my bed. For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then he studies me carefully.
“Did something happen?” he asks ever so softly.
The question nearly breaks me. Even though Felix pretends otherwise, he still cares deeply for me. I also know he fears that I’d one day disappear from his life, too. That hurts.
I look away quickly. “No.”
“Roxy,” he calls.
The concern there is almost worse than anything else. I spent years protecting him. Making sure he never had to carry burdens that weren't his. The last thing I want is to add this one.
“I'm fine,” I tell him.
The lie tastes bitter in my mouth. Felix doesn't look convinced. Still, after a moment, he nods.
“If you say so.”
Guilt settles heavily in my chest. He deserves honesty. Just not yet. I haven't even figured out what I'm doing myself. How am I supposed to explain it to him?
“Hey,” I say quietly. He looks up. “You know I love you, right?"
Suspicion immediately enters his expression. “Okay, now something definitely happened.”
A laugh escapes me. A real one this time.
Felix grins triumphantly. He feigns a shiver as she shoots away from me. “You’re weirder than usual.”
“What do you mean?”
I throw a pillow at him. He catches it effortlessly. Then for a few precious minutes, everything feels normal again.
Saturday evening arrives too quickly. The day passes in a blur of anxiety. I ignore several calls and every thought involving Asher. Or at least I try to.
By dinner, Felix and I are eating takeout Chinese food at the small dining table near the kitchen. The television plays softly in the background.
For the first time all day, my shoulders begin to relax. Felix is halfway through a story about one of his classmates when a violent bang rattles the apartment door.
I jump. The container slips slightly in my hand. Another bang follows. Louder and harder this time, so that the entire frame shudders.
Felix immediately frowns. “Expecting someone?”
“No.”
My stomach drops. Even without knowing who’s there, the feeling arrives before the thought fully forms. Another bang echoes through the apartment. This time, accompanied by a voice.
“Ms. Sinclair.”
Every muscle in my body locks. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. It’s been the source of my nightmare ever since I ran into him in front of my apartment building.
Vincent Torres.
Fear crashes into me so suddenly that I struggle to breathe. I haven’t been able to come up with a solution for this, and right now it’s looking like there’s no way to put. What’s going to happen to me now?
Across the table, Felix notices. His expression sharpens. “Roxy?”
I rise from my chair. My heart pounds violently in my ears.
“Go to your room.”
His brows furrow. “What?”
“Now.”
The firmness in my voice surprises even me. Felix stands slowly. Concern flashes across his face.
“Who is it?”
Another crash shakes the door. I flinch.
“Felix.” My voice drops. “Go to your room and don't come out until I tell you everything is okay.”
His eyes widen. I recognize the fear in them when he hears it. For one terrifying second, I think he's going to argue. Then he nods reluctantly and disappears down the hallway.
I wait until his bedroom door closes. Then I move toward the entrance, wishing there was a way I could get out of this.
My heart feels like it's trying to punch through my ribs. Through the peephole, I see them. Vincent Torres. And three men standing behind him.
The sight drains what little color remains from my face. Another knock rents the air. This one is calmer and almost polite, but I know otherwise.
“Ms. Sinclair,” Vincent calls.
My blood runs cold as I take an instinctive step away from the door. I contemplate my next course of action, but everything seems too dangerous with Felix at home.
“We need to talk,” Vincent says again.
I don't answer. My breathing grows labored as my chest heaves. I hoped deep down that if I stayed quiet, they would leave. Maybe?—
The door explodes inward. The sound is deafening as wood splinters. The lock tears off completely. I stumble backward with a startled scream.
The apartment fills with noise as heavy footsteps rush in.
The three large men enter first. Vincent follows casually behind them, like a guest arriving for dinner.
My heart pounds heavily as my hands tremble beside me. Every survival instinct I possess starts screaming, "run." Protect Felix.
Vincent smooths a hand down the front of his expensive coat and surveys the damaged doorway with mild disappointment. Then his gaze settles on me.
A smile spreads slowly across his face. The sight turns my stomach.
“There you are.”
I take another step backward. “What are you doing?”
His smile widens. “Collecting a debt.”
“You can't just break into my apartment,” I say calmly, trying to maintain my composure.
One of the men laughs. The sound is ugly, and it sickens me. Vincent barely glances at him. His eyes remain fixed on me.
“We've been very patient,” Vincent says, stalking toward me.
Fear crawls beneath my skin. I glance toward the hallway, then Felix's bedroom, with a single wish for him to stay inside.
Vincent notices the movement immediately. His expression sharpens.
“Let's not make this difficult, Ms. Sinclair.”
Every protective instinct inside me rises instantly. “You need to leave. I’ll take care of the loan somehow. I’ll reach out, but please just leave.”
The words sound ridiculous even to my own ears. Four men stand inside my apartment. The front door hangs broken behind them. And yet it's the only thing I can think to say.
Vincent sighs almost sadly. Then gestures toward my living room. “Come sit down.”
The civility in his voice is somehow more frightening than shouting would have been.
“We're going to have a little conversation.”
My heart pounds harder as I hear those words. I suddenly realize something terrifying. Vincent Torres isn't here to threaten me anymore. He's here because he's run out of patience.