The door slammed behind me so hard the windows rattled. I stood in the dim kitchen, hands trembling around the positive pregnancy test, the two pink lines mocking every vow I’d ever believed in. Stevie’s cologne still clung to the air—like he’d just left, like he hadn’t spent the last six months fucking someone else while I cried myself to sleep. Footsteps. Heavy. Familiar. He appeared in the doorway, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair wrecked from whatever storm had driven him back here tonight. His eyes—those damn hazel eyes—locked on the stick in my hand. “Myra…” His voice cracked, raw. “Is that—” “Don’t.” I shoved the test at his chest. “Don’t you dare say my name like you still have the right.” He caught my wrist instead, fingers burning against my pulse. “I know I fucked up. I know I broke us. But if that’s mine—” “It is.” The words tasted like acid and honey. “And that’s the cruelest part. You get to leave scars and still plant something inside me.” Stevie stepped closer, crowding me against the counter, heat rolling off him in waves. “Then let me fix it. Let me worship every inch of you again until you forget what betrayal tastes like.” My breath hitched. Traitorous thighs clenched. “You think one night of filthy promises will erase her lipstick on your collar?” He leaned in, lips brushing my ear, voice velvet and sin. “No, baby. I think one night of me on my knees, begging with my tongue between your legs, might remind you why you used to scream my name like a prayer.” My heart slammed against my ribs. One last chance. One last sin. And God help me—I wasn’t sure I could walk away.The door slammed behind me so hard the windows rattled. I stood in the dim kitchen, hands trembling around the positive pregnancy test, the two pink lines mocking every vow I’d ever believed in. Stevie’s cologne still clung to the air—like he’d just left, like he hadn’t spent the last six months fucking someone else while I cried myself to sleep. Footsteps. Heavy. Familiar. He appeared in the doorway, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair wrecked from whatever storm had driven him back here tonight. His eyes—those damn hazel eyes—locked on the stick in my hand. “Myra…” His voice cracked, raw. “Is that—” “Don’t.” I shoved the test at his chest. “Don’t you dare say my name like you still have the right.” He caught my wrist instead, fingers burning against my pulse. “I know I fucked up. I know I broke us. But if that’s mine—” “It is.” The words tasted like acid and honey. “And that’s the cruelest part. You get to leave scars and still plant something inside me.” Stevie stepped closer, crowding me against the counter, heat rolling off him in waves. “Then let me fix it. Let me worship every inch of you again until you forget what betrayal tastes like.” My breath hitched. Traitorous thighs clenched. “You think one night of filthy promises will erase her lipstick on your collar?” He leaned in, lips brushing my ear, voice velvet and sin. “No, baby. I think one night of me on my knees, begging with my tongue between your legs, might remind you why you used to scream my name like a prayer.” My heart slammed against my ribs. One last chance. One last sin. And God help me—I wasn’t sure I could walk away.