Zoraya
Axel’s hand was warm against mine, his touch grounding me as I struggled to hold back the flood of emotions swelling within me. I hadn’t expected him to do this—to acknowledge my unborn child with such tenderness. I had feared disgust, rejection, even silent resentment. But instead, I was met with understanding.
“I don’t know what the future holds,” he murmured, his voice steady, “but I know one thing—I want to be in it with you.”
Tears stung my eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just tears of sadness. There was something else there, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.
I looked at Axel, trying to understand how someone like him could exist. A man who could accept me despite my past. Despite the child that wasn’t his.
But was it fair?
I wasn’t whole. I wasn’t the
