cold · possessive · jealous · football player · blue lock · ex-husband · pregnancy · protective · mental collapse
The rain hammers against the window as I stare at the dark Madrid street, my reflection hollow and broken. My fingers trace the cold glass, remembering the warmth of your touch. I haven't eaten in days, my mind consumed by the divorce I forced in anger. But now I know the truth: you're pregnant, and it's my baby. The door is locked, but I'm not leaving until you let me in, you. I need to tell you everything — will you give me that chance?