Page 83 of Silence and Surrender

Isabella

Allegra held me as I cried in the bathroom, the Italian marble cold against us both. She rubbed my back in slow circles, handing me tissues as I stared at the pregnancy test on the counter. The little plus sign seemed to mock me, changing everything in an instant.

Positive.

“I’m so sorry, Isabella.” She rocked me gently, like she did with Clara, pushing my tangled hair back from my face. Her voice caught. “I’m guessing…we have no idea who the father is?”

I broke down completely, sobs wracking my body. The uncertainty was almost worse than knowing. What had they done to me during those drugged hours I couldn’t remember? The thought of carrying one of their children made me physically ill. Death would have been kinder.

“Whatever you need,” Allegra whispered, her arms tightening around me. “We can go to a doctor. We don’t have to tell anyone—not Cooper, not Colton. Just let me help you through this.”

Colton. His name sparked a memory…the tunnels, his hands, his kiss. The realization hit like lightning. The thought was foolish, but I grabbed it, holding on to it for dear life. “There’s a possibility...” My voice shook. “It could be Colton’s. We were together, right before…”

Before they took me. Before everything shattered.

Allegra pulled back slightly, surprise clear on her face. “Colton? Really? But he’s always so…I mean for him to not use—”

“I know.” I managed a weak smile from somewhere locked inside. “We got carried away before...It wasn’t planned. I was shocked, but it happened so fast—”

I’d never made it to the pharmacy that night.

Her arms came around me again. “Oh, honey. No wonder you’re scared. Just tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know what to do.” The words came out small, broken. The thought of carrying my captor’s child made me want to claw my own skin off. Bathe in acid until my tarnished layers peeled away.

But if it was Colton’s...

I let myself imagine it—a baby with his chocolate brown eyes, his intelligence. Six months ago, being pregnant with Colton Moreau’s child would have seemed like a nightmare, a giant cosmic joke. A fuck you from the universe. Now...

Now I found myself praying it was his.

I wanted a family someday, but at my age, I’d pretty much figured it wouldn’t happen. I was thirty-two years old, almost thirty-three, without a boyfriend before all this started. Even if I had met someone, fallen in love, gotten married…it was probably too late for me. Yet…

“I need to tell him,” I said finally. “If there’s any chance it’s his, he deserves to know. And even if it’s not—”

“You need him to know,” Allegra finished softly. “Because you love him.”

The revelation crashed over me like a wave.

Love? Did I love Colton Moreau? The man who’d driven me crazy with his rigid adherence to the rules? The man who’d changed himself to fight darkness? The man who’d come for me when I was lost?

Yes. God help me, I did.

That realization terrified me almost as much as the pregnancy test. Love meant vulnerability. Love meant trust. Love meant letting someone close enough to hurt you.

“What if it’s not his?” I whispered against Allegra’s shoulder. “What if it’s…what if they…”

“Then we handle it,” she said firmly. “Together. As a family.”

Family. Another word that carried too much weight. Too much hope.

“He’ll want to help either way,” Allegra continued, running her fingers through my hair. “You know how he is—all that protective instinct wrapped in his expensive suits.”

“That’s what scares me.” I pulled back, wiping my eyes. “He’ll try to save me. To fix everything. To make it all better.”

“Is that so terrible?”

“It is when I don’t know if I can be fixed.” My hand drifted to my still-flat stomach. “When I don’t know if I want this baby if it’s not his.”

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