Chapter 23
A soft knock echoed at the bedroom door.?
Aaron whipped around. Is it her? He lunged for the door, tearing it open.
“Sir.”
His gaze dimmed instantly. A maid stood there, holding out a thin, white plastic stick. “I found this while emptying the trash. I thought you should know.”
Aaron looked down, his eyes locking onto the two faint red lines. Time seemed to stop. “Thank you,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.
The door clicked shut, leaving him in total isolation. He stared at those two lines, his eyes unable to tear away, his fingertips beginning to tremble.
She’s pregnant. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, fleeting and fragile. A flood of images surged through his mind: her belly rounded as she lounged on the sofa complaining about her homework; her pressing a newborn into his arms.
He shakes his head. How could this be a breach of contract? This is a gift—a miracle of us. It’s an “accident” that stumbled into my life, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.
Accident. He remembered her asking about “accidents” just yesterday.
He had replied with cold, clinical finality: “I do not allow for accidents.”
He had seen her face drain of color, but he hadn’t cared.
Now, the realization hit him like a physical blow: she had been trying to share the news with him, and he had crushed her last bit of courage with a single, icy sentence.
His chest felt as if it were being torn open.
He finally understood why she had returned the money, why she had insisted on paying the penalty.
She ran! She couldn’t handle my coldness, my pressure.
She had to escape my rules, my indifference.
She was terrified that I—or rather, the risk this child represents—would be discarded by my own hand.
Aaron gripped the test so hard his hand shook. “You damn fool!” he cursed himself, his voice a low growl. I let her face this alone!
Suddenly, another memory surfaced. That day Ethan cornered Kinsley at school. As Aaron had arrived, he heard her shouting:
“I love Aaron. He treats me well in a way you could never comprehend. I won’t betray him—not for any amount of money. This isn’t about the cash; it’s about a kind of love you will never understand.”
Hearing those words, his heart had hammered against his ribs; he had wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until the world stopped.
But afterward, when her classmates appeared, she had scrambled to distance herself, claiming he was just a stranger asking for directions.
The sting had been too much. Pride had taken over, and he had armored himself in his cold, defensive shell once more.
Aaron’s heart felt as though it were being shredded by a blade. He had hurt her. He had left her to carry this burden alone. He stood there, his chest heaving, his fingers clawing into his hair.
----
Aaron raced to the university, only to be told that Kinsley had taken an extended leave of absence.
Her phone remained off—permanently. He scoured the library, the sports fields, the classrooms…
nothing. He visited the café she frequented; the staff hadn’t seen her.
He went to the studio, but Chris told him her scenes were wrapped and she wasn’t currently booked for anything.
He tracked down her apartment and stood outside the door for a long time, finally summoning the courage to press the bell. When the door opened, he caught a flicker of surprise in her roommate’s eyes.
“Oh, you’re the one who—”
“Is Kinsley here?” he cut her off, his voice tight with desperation.
“Who are you? And why should I tell you?”
“I’m her…” He stalled. Husband? Yes, they were legally married, but she hadn’t wanted it public. He had to respect her wishes. “I’m a friend.” The anxiety of losing her was etched into every line of his face.
“She took leave to go home. She’s been in a state lately, constantly zoning out in class. Honestly, it’s not surprising. Her mother was in a car accident and is hospitalized with a fracture. She’s been pulling all-nighters shooting to pay the medical bills.”
The words hit him like a slap to the face. “Her mother is hospitalized?” he interrupted, his voice hollow. “Where? Which hospital?”
From the very beginning, Aaron had known she was desperate for money, using it as a lure to trap her in a contract.
But he had never realized the reality of her struggle.
She had never asked him for a cent, and before she left, she had returned every penny.
He had thought it was just a tantrum, never realizing it was a clean break.
The door shut. Aaron walked away, feeling, for the first time in his life, like a complete fool.
----
The small town was quiet at night.
Kinsley tucked her mother in and sat alone in the living room. The lights were dim, and the night air carried a sharp, cool bite. She rested her hands on her belly; it was still flat, yet her fingers traced gentle patterns over the surface.
“Baby, are you excited to meet me? I can hardly wait.” There was, of course, no response from within, but she smiled softly, whispering to the air, “I’m sorry, little one. It’s Mommy’s fault you’re coming into a broken family, but I will make up for it with all my love. We’re going to be so happy.”
She reached for her phone to call Emma, then stopped. It had been off for half a day. She didn’t dare turn it on, terrified of seeing Aaron’s name on the screen. He had told her before that he could track her anywhere if he chose to.
He must be furious. He’ll be coming for me. She shook her head. No. He doesn’t love me. Why would he be furious? He’ll just write this off as a failed business deal. I’ve already secured his position and silenced Ethan. I don’t owe him anything.
But the breach penalty… the sheer number made her chest tighten.
If he’s really as cold and ruthless as he seems, he’ll come after the money. I’ll have to double my acting work. Maybe take on two extra jobs. I have to do it now, before my belly starts to show.
Kinsley pulled out her notebook and began sketching out a timeline and a financial plan. Call Chris tomorrow. Then, phone stays off. Everything is planned.
She would stay with her mother for a few days, stabilize, and then head back. Keep studying, keep earning.
Suddenly, memories of her and Aaron flooded her mind—his warmth, his arms, the way he kissed her. Before she realized it, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away with a shaky breath.
“It’s okay. Even if happiness is as fleeting as fireworks, at least it bloomed. I once had him. And soon, I’ll have a happiness even longer-lasting and more brilliant than any firework.”