Five Years of IVF While He Already Had Twins Chapter 06
Less than twelve hours after that call, Alec stood on the Rhode Island coast.
That evening, I was walking alone on the beach.
The sunset was red, like an ominous bloodstain. I wrapped my coat tighter, trying to draw warmth from the sea wind.
“Ella.”
That familiar voice stopped me mid–step. I didn’t need to turn around.
I didn’t run. I knew I couldn’t. When the biggest Mafia family on the East Coast mobilized, I was transparent.
$lowly, I turned.
Alec was walking toward me.
The once–invincible godfather. The man who’d always worn perfect suits, whose eyes held only conquest.
Now he looked like a vagrant.
Stubble everywhere. Hollow eyes. Wrinkled clothes.
He stared at me like a drowning man who’d suddenly found driftwood–terrified, disbelieving.
I stood still.
The wind blew my coat open, revealing my swollen belly.
Eight months.
His gaze locked onto that curve. His pupils contracted.
His throat moved.
“The baby…” He stumbled forward, reaching with shaking fingers toward the miracle he’d dreamed of.
“Ella, is that-”
I stepped back.
“Don’t touch me.”
Even trying to control it, my voice trembled.
Alec froze mid–step, his hand hanging absurdly in the air. Pathetic.
“I’m alive,” I said coldly. “Disappointed? Your funeral was wasted. So was your devoted–husband act.”
“Ella, don’t say that…” His voice was gravel–rough.
You know I’ve been going crazy looking for you? You know I-”
“I know you were busy with your bastards‘ christening,” I cut him off. “Alec. Stop acting. There’s no audience here.”
He closed his eyes in pain. When he opened them, they were bloodshot. “That was a mistake! I swear it was a
mistake! The only person I love is you!”
“Enough.”
I took a deep breath, letting the cold air settle the storm inside.
“Alec. Listen carefully. I’m not dead. But I’m not your’s anymore. Ella and you ended when that ship exploded. Completely.”
“And I will never forgive you. Ever.”
“If you have
any conscience left, go back to your twins. Don’t use this cheap sentiment to disgust me.”
“No…” Panic filled his face. He stammered like a guilty child. “Whatever you need–even my life–I’ll give it. away. Please.”
Just don’t send me away.
The man who’d once shot rivals without blinking was now red–eyed, knees weak, almost kneeling before me,
I found it absurd.
“Your life?” I laughed softly. “Alec, when I took that Bullet for you five years ago, the Ella who loved you died.”
I turned and walked away.
The next morning, I had my routine prenatal checkup Everything went well.
At noon, I came home. Opened the door–and smelled it.
Stew. Roasted bread. Something else. All things I used to love.
Thought Zoe was here.
“Zoe, you won’t believe it–that little monster’s kicking like a boxer-”
I stopped mid–sentence.
The air held a familiar scent. Tomato–basil soup. My favorite.
Movement in the kitchen. Then a figure emerged, carrying a steaming bowl.
Not Zoe.
Alec.
He wore an apron that didn’t fit, holding that fragrant soup, his face wearing that ingratiating, careful smile.
“You’re back,” he said, as casually as if we’d never been separated by death for six months. “Wash your hands and eat. I made your favorite veal too.”
For an instant, I was back in the past, before everything shattered,
When he was the perfect husband and I was the happy fool.
“Who let you in?”
I slammed the prenatal report on the table. “This is breaking and entering. I can call the police.”
The smile on Alec’s face flickered, then returned- that same pathetic humility. “The door was unlocked. And… you used to say, no matter how late I came home, there should always be a light on.”
He set down the soup and moved to change my shoes.
“You can’t bend over easily now. Let me.”
Before those hands–hands that had controlled countless lives and deaths–could touch my feet, I kicked him away.
Don’t touch me with those dirty hands!”
was losing control. My scream echoed through the small apartment. “Get out! Take your soup and get out! I don’t need your fake concern! I don’t want to see your disgusting face!”
My stomach cramped from the emotion.
Alec sat on the floor where I’d kicked him, but he didn’t care about himself. He stared in horror at the hand I’d pressed to my belly.
Ella! What’s wrong? Is it the baby? I’ll-”
“Get OUT!” I grabbed a vase and threw it at him.
It shattered at his feet.
He stopped. Looked at my flushed face, my heaving chest.
He knew how dangerous this was for a pregnant woman.
“Okay… okay.” He raised his hands and backed away slowly, voice shaking. “Don’t be angry, Ella. Breathe. Don’t hurt the baby.”
One last look–eyes full of shattered love and despair.
“I’ll go. Right now. Just don’t be angry.”
He untied the apron. At the door, he stopped.
“The doctor said the baby’s healthy… I heard you say that.”
When the door closed, I collapsed on the sofa, sobbing.