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Fifty-Eight
Olivia Westview I found myself standing in a hospital room. My hands cradled my swollen belly, the weight of it unfamiliar, yet somehow natural. Panic fluttered in my chest as I looked down. I'm pregnant? The door swung open, and James strode in. His eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, relief flooded me. “James,” I whispered, reaching for him, but he didn’t come closer. Instead, he stayed by the door, arms crossed, his jaw tight. "Liv," he said. “This isn’t what we wanted.” I pressed a hand to my belly, feeling the flutter of movement beneath my palm. My heartbeat quickened. “But it’s our child—” “It was never supposed to be this way,” James cut me off. He turned his back to me, as if he couldn’t bear to look. I gasped, my heart thudding in my chest as pain seared through me. N
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