*Chapter 1*
It all started as a dream—the hoping, the longing, the desires. Falling in love with Josh felt like something out of a movie. No one, not even me, would've imagined that I'd stay in love with him after everything that happened—after the bloodshed, the heartbreak… the murder.
Yes, Josh killed someone.
I broke up with him the moment it happened. I blocked him everywhere. I told myself it was over. But the truth? I still love him. And as painful as it is to admit, I'm carrying his child.
I look at my belly now and think of the future—my child's future. How can I tell my baby that their father is a murderer? How do I explain that the man who held my hand and whispered "I love you" also held a gun that ended a life?
Josh always had a temper. I knew that. He'd get angry easily, lose his cool over the smallest things. But never—not once—did I think his rage would drive him to kill.
That night changed everything.
We were on a date, just trying to reconnect. It had been a while since we had time to ourselves. We had barely even started walking when Josh spotted someone across the street. His expression changed instantly—his eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. Before I could ask what was wrong, he ran.
He cornered the guy in an alleyway. I followed, confused, calling out to him. I didn't recognize the man he confronted, but the rage in Josh's voice was terrifying.
"He owes me," Josh growled. "For years. He's been ducking me."
I begged him to calm down, but the moment was already slipping away. Josh pulled a gun from his jacket. My heart stopped.
Then—*bang!*—the first shot hit the guy in the shoulder.
I screamed.
A second shot—his knee.
Then a third. This time, the bullet tore through the man's head. He collapsed, lifeless, in a pool of blood.
I froze.
Josh grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the car. "Don't scream," he said, voice low. "Don't be afraid."
But I was. I was terrified—not just of what he did, but of the man I thought I knew.
I shouted at him, "We're over!"
He didn't argue. He didn't speak. He just stared at me, eyes full of sadness. But I didn't care. I got out and ran home.
I thought that was the end. I thought I could shut that chapter and move on.
But a few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.
My world flipped again. I laughed at first—how could something so fragile grow from something so violent? But then I cried. Because now, I carry a part of him inside me.
I haven't heard from Josh since. He vanished. But his presence lingers—in my memories, in my thoughts, and now, in my child.
I don't know what I'll tell my baby when they ask about their father. I only know one thing for sure: I still love him… and I hate that I do.
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