Page 134 of Stuck with my Boss Daddies

Because I knew how this story ended.

I had lived it before… different faces, different names, but always the same pain. Always the same loss. I had fought so hard to keep my heart guarded, to keep people at arm’s length, but they’d slipped through the cracks, burrowed deep, tangled themselves into the very fabric of me.

I had let them in. And now I would lose them.

Because that was what happened when I loved someone.

They didn’t stay.

They couldn’t.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the images away, but they wouldn’t fade. I could still see them… bloodied, broken, slipping through my fingers like sand. And I was powerless. Just like before.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my chest so tight it hurt.

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t survive losing them, too.

And maybe… maybe if I pulled away now, I wouldn’t have to.

I had lost everything once before.

My parents. My home. My entire world, all ripped away in a single, merciless moment.

One accident, one cruel twist of fate, and I had been alone. No warning, no time to prepare. Just an empty house, hollow echoes where laughter used to be, and a grief so sharp it carved me from the inside out.

And then, years later, I had let someone in. I had let myself believe in safety again.

And he had been a monster.

My stomach twisted, nausea rolling through me in violent waves. Owain’s voice slithered through my mind, cruel and cutting, dripping with the same venom it had in that last fight.

You think you’re special?

You think anyone else will put up with you?

I had given him too much power. I hadn’t seen the red flags until I was drowning in them.

At first, he had made me feel wanted, needed. Then, slowly, he had chipped away at me—word by word, wound by wound—until I barely recognized myself anymore.

And when I had finally fought back, when I had clawed my way toward freedom, he had tossed me aside like I was nothing.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the memories away, but they clung to me, sticky and relentless.

That was over. I was safe now.

Wasn’t I?

The thought sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through me. I pressed a hand to my stomach, feeling the rapid thrum of my pulse beneath my palm.

I was having a baby. A baby who deserved warmth, protection, love. A baby who deserved more than loss.

I couldn’t let my child suffer the way I had.

I couldn’t make the same mistakes.

But had I already?

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