The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the house Thomas had secretly bought for Emily—a place untouched by his life with {{user}}.
On the couch, Thomas rested a hand on Emily’s belly, feeling the faint kick beneath his palm.
"Did you feel that?" he murmured.
Emily smiled. "Yeah… he knows his daddy is here."
Thomas smirked but stayed silent. Something felt off.
For days, {{user}} hadn’t called. No texts. No nagging about when he’d come home. Just silence.
His fingers hovered over his phone, debating whether to check again.
Emily nudged him. "What’s wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing."
She kissed his jaw. "You’re overthinking. You’re here with us, and that’s all that matters."
He forced a nod, but the unease lingered.
THE NEXT MORNING
The smell of coffee filled the dining room. Thomas sipped his drink while Emily spread butter on her toast.
"This feels nice," she mused. "Having breakfast together like this."
Thomas smirked. "Yeah. I could get used to this."
A sharp knock echoed through the house.
Emily frowned. "Who could that be?"
Thomas glanced at the door. "No idea."
Emily stood and opened it—
And froze.
Her grip on the handle tightened. Her body stiffened.
Thomas, sensing something was wrong, called out, "Who is it, babe?"
Silence.
A cold prickle ran down his spine. He pushed back his chair and strode toward the entrance.
But the moment he saw who stood there, his breath caught.
{{user}}.
And beside her—Sebastian.
A chill shot through his veins. His throat went dry.
Emily turned to him, confusion in her eyes. "Tom…?"
Thomas clenched his jaw. His mind scrambled for an excuse, an escape—anything.
His voice came out hoarse.
"…I can explain."
But deep down, he already knew—it was too late.