The world tilted.
Not dramatically — just enough to make me think the floor rose to meet me, instead of my knees giving out.One moment I was pushing open the laundromat door, the next my vision pinched inward, black creeping around the edges, as though someone dimmed the world without warning.
Then — cold tiles.A dryer humming.The sharp, acidic scent of bleach.
And nothing.
I woke to white light and antiseptic.
For a heartbeat, I wasn't sure if it was morning or a morgue. The ceiling tiles above me were too bright, too still. My skin prickled against the rough hospital sheets. An IV line tugged at the back of my hand, anchoring me to the sterile now. My mouth tasted of cotton and regret.
A nurse appeared beside me, her face soft with professional relief. "Miss Brooks? Can you hear me?"
I blinked. "Unfortunately."
She smiled — the kind people give to children and drunkards. "You collapsed from dizziness and low blood pressure. Someone at the laundromat called emergency services. You've been here a few hours."
Hours.
The word lodged like a stone behind my ribs. I tried to sit up too quickly; the room pitched sideways. The nurse pressed me back, gentle but firm. Her hands were cool and clean, smelling faintly of soap and latex.
"Easy," she murmured. "You're dehydrated, and your vitals are unstable. You also…"Her pause made my stomach twist.
I hate hesitation. Nothing good hides behind it.
"What?" I asked.
She hesitated again, glancing toward the monitor before meeting my eyes. "We contacted the emergency number listed in your file."
The air in my lungs froze.
Of course they did.
My voice scraped out, flat. "You called Alexander Knight?"
She nodded. "He didn't answer at first, but he returned the call a few minutes ago. He may be on his way."
My pulse began to pound in my temples, sharp and relentless. "He shouldn't have been on that form."
"It was the only number listed."
Because he'd made me list one. Because his reach extended into every shadow of my life, even when I swore it wouldn't.
I swung my legs over the bed. The nurse startled. "You shouldn't stand yet."
"I'm fine."
"You fainted," she snapped. "You're not leaving until the doctor clears you. Final checks still need to be done."
Final checks. My thoughts snagged on the words. "What final checks?"
A new voice answered from the doorway — calm, precise."The kind that confirm what the bloodwork already told us."
A woman stepped in — the doctor. Mid-forties, poised, eyes that had seen everything but still managed to care. I couldn't decide if I wanted to trust her or hate her.
"When you were admitted," she said, moving closer, "we stabilized your vitals and took routine samples. One of the results came back clear."
My chest tightened. "Just say it."
She met my gaze. "You're pregnant."
The word detonated softly, leaving silence in its wake.
"What?" It came out a rasp, more disbelief than sound. "No. That's not possible."
"Blood tests don't lie," she said gently. "Based on your levels, you're at least six weeks along."
Six weeks.The nights blurred together — his hands, his mouth, my rules dissolving whenever he looked at me like he owned the air I breathed.
My fingers curled around the sheet. "There must be a mistake."
"There isn't."
The nurse slipped out quietly, closing the door. My world shrank to the hum of the fluorescent lights and the pounding of my own heart.
"I can't—" I swallowed. "I need to leave."
"You need to rest," the doctor countered. "You collapsed because your body's under strain. We also performed an ultrasound to confirm viability."
My stomach clenched. "And?"
She hesitated again.
I wanted to scream. "What?"
"There are two heartbeats."
The room stilled. Even the machines seemed to hush.
"…What?"
"You're carrying twins, Miss Brooks."
The laugh that rose was sharp and wrong, a wild thing clawing against my throat. I forced it down, pressing my fist to my mouth.
Twins.
Two.
It felt like a cosmic joke, too cruel to be accidental. I wasn't the woman men built families with. I was the one they touched in secret and forgot in daylight. I was warmth that burned out before morning.
Not this.Not a future.Not his children.
My fingers dug into the sheets. "I don't want him contacted."
The doctor studied me carefully. "He's already been notified. Legally, we had to, given your condition and the emergency admission."
Rage prickled beneath my skin — not at her, but at the inevitability of him."He has no say in anything," I said slowly, each word an iron nail.
She paused. "Do you want the pregnancy?"
Did I?I didn't know. All I knew was that I wouldn't be cornered. Not by biology. Not by him.
"I don't beg," I whispered. "And I don't belong to anyone."
She said nothing, only handed me a folded printout — the ultrasound image.Two pale shapes. Two faint flickers of life.
Two heartbeats.
Something broke open inside me — not tears, not yet, just the pressure of everything unsaid.
"I can have discharge papers prepared," she said softly. "But you'll need to rest."
"I'll leave tonight."
"It's morning," she corrected.
I looked toward the window. Pale light was seeping through the blinds, washing the room in silver. Another day, beginning without my permission.
"Fine," I muttered. "Then I'll leave this morning."
She didn't argue.
They gave me clothes from the donation closet — worn jeans, a gray sweatshirt that smelled faintly of detergent and someone else's life. My dress and heels sat in a plastic bag I didn't open.
Before I left, I tore the hospital bracelet from my wrist and dropped it in the trash.The snap of plastic sounded final.
At the doorway, the nurse tried one last time. "Miss Brooks… someone will be looking for you."
I met her eyes. "They'll fail."
Then I walked out.
Outside, the air was heavy with rain. The pavement glistened like spilled mercury, and the smell of wet asphalt filled my lungs. I didn't call a cab. I just walked — slow at first, then faster, until my body remembered movement again.
Each step was a refusal.
The hospital's automatic doors whispered shut behind me, erasing the sound of machines, the hum of light, the ghost of his name echoing down sterile halls.
I didn't know where I was going, only that it had to be away.Away from his reach.Away from the life that would shrink around him like gravity.
At a crosswalk, I stopped. My reflection shimmered faintly on the wet glass of a bus stop — pale skin, eyes too dark, hair damp with fog. A stranger.
My hand slipped into my pocket, brushing the folded ultrasound. The paper felt warm from my body heat. I didn't unfold it. I didn't need to.
Two heartbeats.Two small, uninvited lives.
Two reasons to run.
I thought of Alexander's voice — calm, precise, merciless.
"We're nothing more."
He never raised his tone; he didn't need to. His indifference was louder than anger.
He would see this — them — as an inconvenience, a breach of contract.He would fix it the way he fixed everything: efficiently, without emotion.
And I couldn't let him.
He wasn't a man who took surprises well.But I had no intention of giving him the chance.
I kept walking until my legs trembled. The city blurred — lights and concrete bleeding into one another. My thoughts were a haze of exhaustion and resolve.
Somewhere behind me, he would find the hospital room empty, my name erased from the discharge file.
No forwarding address.No trace.
Just silence… and two heartbeats he didn't know existed.
I touched my abdomen lightly through the sweatshirt. The warmth beneath my palm was fragile, unreal — and yet, it was mine. For now, that was enough.
The rain began again, soft at first, then steady. It slicked my hair against my cheeks, soaked through my clothes. I didn't care. The chill grounded me, pulled me back into the body that had betrayed me and saved me all at once.
For the first time since I'd known Alexander Knight, I wasn't reacting to him.I was choosing — to leave, to live, to protect what was mine.
The city roared around me, unaware that somewhere in its veins, a woman was carrying a secret that would one day destroy a man like him.
I lifted my chin, tasting the rain — metallic, alive — and kept walking until the hospital's lights were nothing but a ghost in the mist.
Two heartbeats.One secret.And a promise to never be caught again.