The morning sunlight filtered through the grand windows of the Smith mansion, but there was no warmth in the air.
John sat rigidly in the study, the sterile white walls and polished floor reflecting the emptiness in his chest. The doctor's words echoed in his mind like a cruel refrain:
"I'm sorry, Mr. William. There is no chance. You cannot father a child."
He had sat frozen in disbelief for what felt like hours, the weight of the impossible news pressing on his chest. His mind spun with anger, guilt, and grief all at once.
He had saved Grace. He had fought for her life. And yet, here he was, powerless to give her the one thing she longed for most—a child.
Grace's Confrontation
Grace entered the room quietly at first, her soft footsteps a stark contrast to the storm raging inside John.
"John…" she began, her voice trembling, trying to offer comfort.
"Don't," he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Don't try to speak."
Grace froze, hurt flickering in her eyes. "I… I thought we could—"
"Thought?" John's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Do you know what it's like to be told you can never give someone the future they dreamed of? That no matter how hard you fight, it's… impossible?" His voice cracked, the rage spilling into desperation. "I tried, Grace! I saved you! And still… still nothing!"
Tears welled up in Grace's eyes. "John, it's not your fault! It's not anyone's fault!"
"Not my fault?" he shouted, stepping closer. "I gave everything—everything I had—and it's not enough! How am I supposed to tell the child that will never exist that I failed?"
Her hands shook as she reached for him, but he recoiled, his pain too raw, too consuming. "Stop," he whispered hoarsely. "Stop pretending we can fix this."
Grace's own grief erupted into anger. "Pretending? Pretending? I've lost my child, John! And you—" she pointed a trembling finger at him, "you're acting like it's all about you! You think your pain is greater than mine?"
"I saved you! Do you even understand what that means?" John roared, his voice shaking with emotion. "I risked everything—my life, my sanity, everything for you! And now we have nothing!"
Grace took a step back, chest heaving. "Nothing? We still have each other!"
He shook his head violently. "No. Not even that feels enough anymore. You… you're happy that Fiona was saved. You're happy that someone else got the life you wanted!"
Grace's eyes widened in shock, but she didn't back down. "I am not thinking of her! Stop blaming everyone for what's happened!"
The Explosion
The argument escalated quickly, voices echoing through the mansion.
John slammed his hands on the desk, papers fluttering to the floor. "Do you know how much I wanted to be a father? How much I imagined holding our child, seeing you with our baby?"
Grace's tears fell freely now. "I wanted that too! Do you think I'm not hurting? Do you think losing this child doesn't tear me apart every second?"
John's jaw tightened. "Then why does it feel like I'm the only one who's suffering?"
"You're not!" Grace shouted, voice breaking. "Stop acting like this is only about you! We're both broken, John! We're both losing a part of ourselves!"
The room fell silent for a moment, heavy with the weight of their grief. Both were trembling, both felt hollowed out by the impossibility of the situation.
Liam's Shadow
Across the ocean, on the private island, Liam's mind churned with fury and obsession. He had tracked Fiona relentlessly, piecing together every detail of her life after the kidnapping. The thought of her laughing with Robin, safe and independent, made his blood boil.
Every beat of his heart screamed possessiveness, rage, and a desire to reclaim what he considered his.
He slammed his fist against the side of his study table, dark thoughts swirling like a storm around him. "She's mine. No one touches her. No one keeps her from me."
His mind flickered back to John and Grace. And what do they have? A lost child. They couldn't even protect what should have been theirs.
The island was quiet now, Fiona humming softly as she guided the children's small hands over the canvas. But Liam's storm was coming. He would find her. He would take her back. And nothing—not General Kael, not Robin—would stop him.
The Aftermath
Back at the Smith mansion, John sank into the chair, burying his face in his hands. Grace sat silently beside him, still trembling, still raw. They were both exhausted, both broken, but neither could deny the depth of the wound that had been inflicted on their lives.
The lost child, the shattered dream, had left an imprint deeper than either had anticipated. And in the shadows of their grief, the weight of guilt, anger, and helplessness pressed down relentlessly.
Outside, the sun continued to shine, indifferent to the pain within the mansion walls. Life went on, but for John and Grace, the world had fractured.
And somewhere, miles away, Liam's obsession with Fiona burned brighter, a storm yet to strike.