6. TRUTH #2
I thought about Amai. About the way he’d accused me of sleeping with someone else. About the coldness in his voice when he’d said it. Like he had the right to demand answers about my body, my choices, my life.
And then I thought about Kaisen. About how he’d been consistent, present, asking questions that mattered. About how he’d kissed me like he actually wanted to know me, not just possess me.
I squeezed his hand.
He glanced over at me, and I saw the relief flash across his face before he turned his attention back to the road.
But I couldn’t shake the guilt that came with it.
I’d spent the last few weeks telling myself I was loyal to a fault.
That I didn’t do this—didn’t entertain two men, didn’t play games, didn’t blur lines.
I was the girl who believed in one person, one love, one future.
The girl who’d married Phillip thinking it was forever, even when he was showing me exactly who he was.
And look where that got me.
Broke. Humiliated. Doubting whether good men even existed.
Phillip had done that to me. He’d taken my ability to trust and shattered it into pieces so small I couldn’t even see them anymore. He’d made me believe that all men were the same—selfish, cruel, willing to destroy you for their own benefit.
But Kaisen was different.
Kaisen was proof that good men still existed.
He was consistent. He showed up. He didn’t play games or make me guess where I stood. He didn’t accuse me of things I hadn’t done. He didn’t make me feel small or disposable or like I was just a means to an end.
He made me feel like I mattered.
And maybe that was enough.
Maybe I didn’t have to keep chasing after Amai, keep hoping he’d change, keep telling myself that the hot and cold was just part of who he was. Maybe I could let myself want something simpler. Something safer.
Something that didn’t mess with my anxiety every time my phone buzzed.
We pulled up to Dr. Beaumont’s office at 10:47 AM. The building was sleek and modern, all glass and steel, the kind of place that made you feel like you were in good hands. Kaisen found a spot in the parking lot and turned off the engine.
“I’ll wait out here,” he said, reaching for the door handle.
“No.” The word came out faster than I intended. I grabbed his arm. “I mean—would you come inside? Just to the lobby. I don’t want to feel alone if something’s wrong.”
He turned to look at me, and I saw something shift in his expression. Something soft, protective, and real.
“Nothing’s going to be wrong,” he said quietly. “You and the baby are going to be just fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I know you. And you’re stronger than you think.”
He got out of the car and came around to my side, opening the door and offering me his hand. I took it, letting him help me up. He kept hold of it as we walked into the building, his thumb making small circles on the back of my hand.
The lobby was quiet. Soft music played from hidden speakers. A receptionist looked up from her desk and smiled.
“Truth Renois?” she asked.
“That’s me.”
“Dr. Beaumont is ready for you. You can head back—third door on the left.”
I squeezed Kaisen’s hand one more time. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’ll be right here,” he said.
The exam was routine. Dr. Beaumont checked my vitals, took blood, asked about the nausea, and used a small, handheld monitor long enough to confirm a heartbeat.
She moved the wand quickly, too quickly for me to understand what I was seeing.
For a second, her hand paused. Her eyes flickered to the screen, then to the door.
“Everything looks fine,” she said.
But something about the way she said it didn’t sit right. She just made a note and told me everything looked fine.
“Morning sickness?” Dr. Beaumont asked, making notes on her tablet.
“It came back,” I admitted. “The last couple of days have been rough.”
“That’s not uncommon,” she said reassuringly. “It usually eases up in the second trimester. You’re almost there.”
She scheduled my next appointment for two weeks out and sent me on my way.
I walked back into the lobby, feeling lighter than I had in days. The morning sickness would pass. The baby was healthy. Everything was going to be okay.
And then I saw him.
Amai.
He walked through the front door, his presence commanding the space the way it always did. Expensive suit. Dark sunglasses. That cold, controlled expression that made people move out of his way without him having to say a word.
Our eyes locked.
And the world stopped.
Everything else—Kaisen, the receptionist, the soft music playing in the background—faded into white noise. There was only him. Only the weight of what was between us, unspoken and undeniable.
I saw the moment he registered me. Saw the flash of something in his eyes—relief maybe, or possession, or both. Saw his jaw tighten as he started moving toward me.
And then he saw Kaisen.
Kaisen, who was standing up from the lobby chair. He looked between me and Amai with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
The air in the lobby became charged with something dangerous and electric.
I realized in that moment, that I’d made a terrible mistake.
Because the look on his face—
It wasn’t cold anymore.
It was something far worse.
It was possessive.
It was furious.
It was the look of a man who’d just discovered that something he considered his was being touched by someone else.
The clinic lobby felt too bright. Too sterile. Too normal for what was about to happen.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Amai’s voice was low. Ragged. But underneath it was something that made my stomach drop to my ass.
“Amai—” Kaisen started.
“Don’t talk to him like that,” I said, stepping forward instinctively.
Amai’s eyes snapped to mine.
And what I saw there made my breath catch. Bitch I hope they had a defibrillator because I was about to flat line in this hoe.
“Kaisen is my brother,” he said.
The words didn’t make sense.
I looked at Kaisen. Then back at Amai.
“What?” My voice came out small. Broken. “I know you fucking lying! What kind of sick shit is this?” I demanded, my voice rising.
“I have no idea,” Amai said, his eyes never leaving Kaisen. “But I’m about to find out.”
Kaisen stood up straighter.
“I have just as much reason to be here as you do,” he said.
And then everything exploded.
Amai moved so fast I didn’t see it coming.
One second, he was standing five feet away.
The next he had Kaisen by the throat, slamming him into the wall so hard the framed artwork rattled.
“You followed her?” Amai’s voice was a snarl. “You been watching her?”
Kaisen tried to speak but couldn’t with Amai’s hand crushing his windpipe.
“Amai, stop!” I screamed.
He didn’t stop.
He pulled Kaisen forward and slammed him into the wall again. Then again.
Kaisen’s hands came up, clawing at Amai’s grip.
Then he swung.
His fist connected with Amai’s jaw.
Amai’s head snapped to the side.
But he didn’t let go.
Instead, he smiled.
And that smile was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. Yeah, this was about to turn into a crime scene.
“There he is,” Amai said quietly. “There’s the bitch I remember.”
He threw Kaisen across the lobby.
Kaisen crashed into the chairs, sending them scattering.
The receptionist screamed for security.
I stood frozen, my hands pressed against my stomach, watching in horror as Kaisen scrambled to his feet.
“You don’t understand—” Kaisen started.
“Then make me understand!” Amai roared.
He closed the distance between them in two strides and hit Kaisen so hard I heard the crack of bone.
Kaisen went down.
Amai didn’t stop.
He dropped on top of him, his fists moving with brutal precision.
Face. Ribs. Face again.
“Amai, please!” I was crying now, trying to pull him off. “Stop! You’re going to kill him!”
He didn’t hear me.
Or he didn’t care.
Kaisen was trying to fight back but Amai was something else entirely.
This wasn’t a man.
This was an animal.
The thing everyone whispered about, but I’d never truly seen.
Until now.
“Dad—” Kaisen choked out between blows. “Dad used my sperm too!”
Amai went still.
Completely still.
“What?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“The eggs,” Kaisen gasped, blood running from his nose. “Dad told Dr. Beaumont to use both of us. As backup. Truth could be carrying my baby!”
The sound that came out of Amai wasn’t human.
It was rage and betrayal and something so primal it made my blood run cold.
He reached into his jacket.
Pulled out a knife.
“No!” I screamed.
But he was already moving.
The blade flashed.
Kaisen screamed.
I lunged forward, grabbing Amai’s arm, trying to pull him back.
“Stop! Please stop!”
He shook me off like I weighed nothing.
Raised the knife again.
“Mr. Landry!” Dr. Beaumont’s voice cut through the chaos. “Stop this right now or I’m calling Winston!”
Amai froze.
His head turned slowly toward her, his blade stained with Kaisen’s blood.
And I watched understanding dawn in his eyes.
“You,” he said softly. “You’ve been telling him everything.”
All the color seemed to drain from Dr. Beaumont’s face.
“I-I had to. He’s my employer—”
Amai stood up.
Kaisen was on the floor, bleeding, gasping for air.
Amai started walking toward Dr. Beaumont.
The knife was still in his hand.
Blood dripped from the blade onto the pristine white floor.
“Amai, no!” I screamed.
But he kept walking.
Dr. Beaumont backed up until she hit the wall.
“Seecccuurrriiittyyy!” the reception screamed, but still, no one came.
I didn’t know where the fuck they were, but their asses needed to be fired.
One security guard appeared at the hall, saw Amai, saw the knife, and immediately froze like he’d decided unemployment was better than death. Smart man, but at the same time, do your fucking job, sir, before we all die in this muthafucka.
“Please—I was just following orders—”
“You betrayed her,” Amai said. His voice was eerily calm now. Detached. “You put her at risk. You put my child at risk.”
He raised the knife.
And then his eyes found mine.
I was standing there, shaking, tears streaming down my face.
Staring at him like I’d never seen him before.