I stumbled back a step, my heart tightening as the remnants of my nightmare surged forward, wrapping around me like a vice.

"How?" Stefan asked, but Tristan's gaze was fixed on me, intense and unwavering. "Leave us, Stefan." He spoke without looking at him. "I need to talk to my wife," his voice was firm and devoid of any warmth. It sent a sickening chill down my spine.

Stefan didn't move immediately. His eyes flicked to me, searching my face, and I shook my head quickly. "No, Stefan," I said, my voice stronger than I felt. "Don't go."

"Stefan," Tristan warned, finally locking eyes with him. For a moment, the two men engaged in a silent standoff. Stefan's jaw tensed, his hand flexing as if he wanted to stay, but then he rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled. "I think," he said slowly, "I left something in the car."

"Stefan—" I started, a note of desperation slipping into my voice.

He met my gaze and gave me a small, reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't worry," he said softly. "I'll be right back." With that, he turned and slipped out, shutting the door gently behind him.

The quiet click of the door felt like the sound of a guillotine blade dropping, and suddenly the small room seemed to shrink, walls pressing closer. I clutched the edges of my robe, wrapping it tighter around myself, hoping it might serve as some sort of armor against the man standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice shaking despite my best efforts. I hated how vulnerable I sounded, how my words trembled. "And how did you find me?"

He didn't answer right away, just stood there, letting the suspense mount, suffocating us both. The tension radiating from him was so intense it felt like a living thing. Finally, he broke the silence. "I called you."

I lifted my chin, forcing myself not to cower. "I'm aware."

"You didn't answer."

"You're still not answering my question," I shot back. "How did you find me? Did you have me followed?" The idea of it sent a fresh wave of unease through me.

"I had Stefan followed," he admitted. "Figured if anyone knew where you were, it would be him."

His tone suggested he didn't like the idea of me confiding in Stefan. I clenched my fists at my sides. "You had no right."

"I was worried."

My laugh was bitter. "That's a first."

"I just— I needed to find you, okay."

"Why?" I spat. "What could be so important that you tracked me down like this?"

He took a step closer, and I instinctively took one back, hitting the edge of a small table behind me.

He paused. "Come home," he said, his voice softening, but it only made the hurt cut deeper. "We need to talk."

"I'm not going back there." I bit out.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but then he sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it hurt to see. "Fine," he muttered, "then we'll talk here."

"You have two minutes."

He reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a crumpled brown envelope. My stomach dropped at the sight of it and my first instinct was to turn and run as it felt like I was about to relive my nightmare again.

Tristan's expression was unreadable as he reached into the envelope. My breath caught in my throat, expecting to see a stack of photos but he pulled out a single sheet of paper instead and handed it to me.

My hands were shaking as I took it and scanned the document.

The paternity test.

"It came back positive," he said, his voice so low I barely heard it. "They're mine."

The babies were his. Relief flooded me, warm but short-lived. I looked up, meeting his eyes, feeling the sting of betrayal and exhaustion and something I couldn't name. "Great," I said, the word laced with bitterness. "Hope you're happy now."

He exhaled. "I just needed to know."

"You needed to know," I echoed, the irritation spilling over. "God, Tristan. Do you hear yourself? You needed to know?"

"It's not easy for me to trust, you know this."

"It's not easy for anyone to trust, Tristan." I countered. "You're not an exception."

He swallowed, his eyes dropping slightly to my stomach. "What are you planning to do now?"

My brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"The babies, Sienna," he clarified. "What are your plans? Have you really thought about this?"

I stiffened. "Yes I have and I'm keeping them," I said, my voice sharp. "Of course, I'm keeping them."

"I'm not ready."

"You think I'm ready?"

"No, It's—" His eyes closed briefly and he let out a breath that seemed to deflate him. "I don't think... I can do this, Sienna."

The world seemed to tilt beneath me, and I clenched my fists to keep steady.

He let out a breath. "This changes everything..."

My heart clenched. I couldn't believe this.
"So what do you want me to do? Get rid of them? Give them up? I'm fifteen weeks pregnant Tristan, they have a heartbeat! They're real! You think I will just erase them because you're not ready to be a father?"

His mouth opened, then closed, as if he was at a loss for words. "I don't know what to do..."

"You could man up!" I shot back, my voice rising. "Stop running from your shadows, Tristan. Stop hiding behind excuses. You could be there for your children."

He shook his head, his anguish written in the tense lines of his body. "It's not that simple, and you know it."

"No, I don't know it," I snapped. "I don't know you anymore, Tristan! What happened to the man I fell in love with? The one who would've fought for me? What happened to him?"

He ran a hand through his hair again, his frustration mounting. "I'm not the man you need me to be. I'm not sure— I'm not that man, Sienna."

My heart twisted painfully. "Then go," I said, my voice trembling. "If you're too scared to be a father, then leave. I'll do it on my own. I'm not giving up on them just because you have."

He stepped closer, his hand half-reaching for mine.

"Don't."

He pulled back.

The space between us felt insurmountable, and I could see the battle in his eyes—anger, regret, something I didn't dare hope was love.

"You of all people should understand me, Sienna. You know what I've been through. My past—"

"You can't keep living in it forever." I interrupted. "You can't keep letting it control every part of your life and destroy everything in its path, including me—" My voice cracked, and I struggled to breathe through the lump in my throat. "I've tried to be understanding. I've tried to be patient, but all it's done is destroy me. You can't keep dragging me into your darkness and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how it works. Look," I held out my arm, showing him the wound that still lingered from this morning. "Look at this, Tristan. You did this. You hurt me, and you didn't even care enough to apologize. You didn't even try. Not once."

His mouth opened, but no words came out. "I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, almost too softly to hear.

"That's always your excuse. 'I never wanted to. I didn't mean to.' But that doesn't erase the pain. It doesn't."

"You know I'd never intentionally hurt you."

"Do I? Because the Tristan I fell in love with never would have done this to me. He never would have made me feel unsafe." My eyes blurred with tears. "You're so wrapped up in your own trauma that you can't see how much damage you're doing to me. You need help, Tristan. Real help. Because I can't fix you. I've tried, and I've broken myself in the process. I won't keep doing it."

The words seemed to hit him like physical blows. His face crumpled, his bravado shattering. "I'm trying. You have to believe me, I'm trying."

"Trying isn't enough," I shot. "You need to get real help. Not for me, but for you. Because whatever you're carrying, it's poisoning you, and it's killing us." I wiped at my tears, feeling the ache of heartbreak spread through my entire chest. "I can't save you, and I shouldn't have to destroy myself trying. I won't. Not anymore. Please leave."

His eyes widened. "Don't do this, Sienna."

My shoulders shook with barely restrained sobs. "I've never asked you to be perfect for me. Even with all your flaws, I still accepted you because you were honest and always willing to change. But now... these babies—" I pressed a hand to my belly, my voice breaking. "I love you Tristan, and I'm not ready to live in a world where you don't exist. But it's not just us anymore. There are lives growing inside me, lives we created. I can't let them be affected. If you can't be what they need, then you're not what I need." The words felt like shards of glass, cutting as I forced them out. I pointed at the door, my arm quivering. "Leave."

He took a faltering step forward. "I can't do that, I can't just leave you."

"You don't get it." The tears fell now. "It's not just me anymore. It's us. Me and them. And they deserve love—real, genuine love. They deserve to be wanted, not hated, not resented before they've even taken their first breath." I couldn't keep doing this. "Go, Tristan. I don't want to see you. Not until you get help. Until you figure out who the hell you are now because I don't recognize you anymore."

But he stood there, motionless, as if paralyzed by my words.

His silence made my heart squeeze painfully. "What are you waiting for?" I snapped, my voice frayed and hoarse from grief. "Get out."

But he still didn't move.

"Go, Tristan."

Nothing.

My anger rose in waves. I grabbed a cushion from the couch and hurled it at him, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. "Why won't you just leave?!"

His eyes burned red, my lips quivering. "I'm sorry Sienna."

Oh, God.

Tears streaked down my face, hot and relentless. "I don't want to hear it! just go!" I stumbled toward him, pushing against his chest with what little strength I had left. "Go!" I shoved him again, my hands trembling, my voice cracking into pieces. "Leave!"

He caught me in his arms, pulling me into a hug that was desperate and crushing. "I can't do this without you, Sienna," he choked out, burying his head into the crook of my neck. "I need you. God, I need you."

My fists beat against his chest in fury, but the blows turned into something weak, crumbling into anguish. "You need to make a choice," I cried. "You need to choose us, Tristan."

He shook his head, his breath hitching as he held me tighter. "I can't do it," he whispered, "I can't."

My heart shattered all over again. "Then there's nothing I can do for you." I pushed him away, my hands trembling, wiping furiously at my tear-soaked face. "Leave, or I swear to God I'll scream this place down."

"Sienna..."

"LEAVE!"

The door opened right at that moment and Stefan walked in, his eyes bouncing between us. "Everything okay? I can hear screams from the parking lot."

I opened my mouth to speak but a sharp pain jolted up my spine, stealing the breath from my lungs. I winced, swaying into the table.

Stefan rushed to my side, steadying me on my feet. "Hey, hey, you okay?

I was breathing hard, my chest heaving. "Yeah," I gasped out, even though I could feel the heat burning under my skin.

His face tightened with worry. "You're burning up, you need to calm down."

"I need him to leave." I clutched his shirt. "Please, Stefan, make him leave."

Stefan turned at him. "Tristan, she's hyperventilating. Please."

Tristan met his gaze, and then his eyes returned to mine, lingering on my tear-stained face.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, but then he closed them, breathing in deeply.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked out, never looking back...