His Debts, My Sweetest Victory

Kelsey Reyes POV:

His fingers dug into my wrist. His eyes were wide, desperate.

"Tell me, Kelsey! What about the child? Don't you dare walk away from me! I have a right to know!" Elias' s voice was a low snarl, laced with a frantic edge.

I tried to pull my arm free. He held on tighter.

"You have a right?" I asked, my voice rising. "You didn't have a right when you were screwing around with your 'little sister'! You didn't have a right when you left me to deal with everything alone!"

"Give me the damn results, Kelsey!" he yelled, shaking my arm. "I'm the father!"

A surge of white-hot fury erupted inside me. My free hand flew up. The slap cracked across his face. A sharp, stinging sound in the silent corridor.

His head snapped back. He stared at me, his eyes burning with disbelief and rage.

"Father?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "You? You were never a father, Elias. You were never even a husband worth mentioning."

He lunged for me, but a strong hand caught him.

"You touch her again, you bastard, and I'll break every bone in your body!"

It was my father. Jerome. His face was a mask of cold fury. He punched Elias square in the jaw. Elias stumbled back, clutching his face.

"Dad!" I gasped, shocked by the sudden violence.

"What do you mean, never a father?" Elias whimpered, rubbing his jaw. "What are you talking about, Kelsey?"

My father stepped between us, shielding me from Elias. His voice was grim, devoid of all feeling.

"The child is gone, Elias."

Elias stared at him, then at me, his face paling. "No… no, that's not true. She's just mad. She's lying."

"Lying?" My father' s laugh was harsh. "You want to know where your child is, Elias? Go look in the hospital biohazard bin. That' s where your negligence put it."

Elias swayed. His eyes darted to me, pleading. "Kelsey… tell me he' s lying. Please."

Dayami, who had been scrambling to her feet, suddenly crumpled back to the floor, letting out a theatrical moan. "Oh, my head! I think I'm fainting!"

Elias didn' t even glance at her. His gaze was fixed on me.

"Kelsey?" His voice was barely a whisper now, trembling with a raw, agonizing fear. "The baby… our baby… is it really…?"

I looked at him. No emotion. No pity. Just a cold, hard truth.

"Yes, Elias," I said, my voice steady, unwavering. "It is."

He shook his head, denial etched on his face. "No… no, it can't be. I had everything planned. The nursery, the tiny shoes… I even bought a little blanket. A blue one."

"You never even bothered to show up for the appointment, Elias," I said, my voice flat. "You were too busy comforting your mistress."

"No! That's not fair! You can't blame this on me!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. His carefully constructed facade shattered into a million pieces.

"Oh, but I can, Elias," I said. "You. And her. Both of you killed my child."

Dayami, from the floor, piped up, "Elias, I'm really hurt! Help me!"

Elias whirled around, his eyes blazing. "Shut UP, Dayami! Just shut UP!" His voice was a guttural roar.

He turned back to me, collapsing to his knees. He grabbed my legs, his head pressed against my stomach.

"Kelsey, please! Tell me this is a nightmare! Tell me I can wake up!" he sobbed, his body shaking uncontrollably.

My father pulled him away from me. "This isn't a dream, Elias. This is your reality."

"You don't get to grieve, Elias," my father said, his voice hard. "You forfeited that right the moment you chose her over your family. Over your unborn child."

My mother appeared, her arm around my waist, pulling me gently away. Her eyes were filled with a fierce, protective anger as she glared at Elias.

A strange, hollow satisfaction settled in my chest. It wasn't happiness. It was akin to a dull ache finally being soothed.

Elias slid further down the wall, a broken, weeping mess on the cold hospital floor. His cries echoed through the corridor.

I walked away. I didn't look back.

The elevator doors opened. My mother guided me inside. The doors slid shut, sealing Elias and Dayami, their pathetic drama, out of my life.

I leaned against the cool metal of the elevator wall. The city lights blurred outside the car window as we drove home. I felt exhausted, but my mind was clearer than it had been in weeks.

The grief was still there, a dull throb beneath my ribs. But Elias' s pain, his utter devastation, had somehow cauterized the wound.

"Kelsey, you shouldn't have done that," my mother said softly, her hand stroking my arm. "He's lost his child."