Page 60 of Punishing His Runaway Bride
The words had crushed my chest for six months, stealing my breath. I wanted to say them, but where to start? The delivery room? The nursery? Bianca? Or that day in the garden, what she told me?
"I..."
One word, and tears flooded out.
Not slow ones—sudden, like a dam breaking. I clamped my mouth, not wanting her to hear, but sobs leaked through my fingers.
"Fuck!" Ella yelled on the other end. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! What happened?! Don't cry! Talk!"
I cried too hard to speak.
She waited.
Waited till I stopped.
Till I caught my breath.
Then I spilled.
In the delivery room, they took the baby. He said "scheduled visits." Bianca moved in. Thatnursery door...
I talked, tears streaming. Six months buried inside, rotting, now ripping open like a fresh wound.
Ella stayed silent.
Till I finished.
"So for six months," her voice heavy, "you've been like this, hiding it from us?"
"I..."
"Olivia, listen." Her tone dead serious. "Leave. Now. That bastard, that woman, that shitty place—fuck 'em all. Come to me. I'll take care of you. Hear me?"
I closed my eyes.
"Juliet's here."
Saying it stunned me.
Just those words pinned me down. For six months.
Quiet on the line for seconds.
"Olivia," Ella said, softer. "Is there more?"
I didn't answer.
That tiny thread was so small, I was ashamed to admit it—that faint, ridiculous spark that should've died, still flickering in some corner.
Silence.
Long-ass silence.
Then Ella sighed.
"Olivia, you're gonna kill yourself like this."
I said nothing.
