I pulled up to a red light.
Stared at the contract on the passenger seat.
Two hundred fifty thousand dollars.
A future I never thought I’d have.
All because of what Kaisen took from me.
“You need to let that shit go, man,” Kaisen said quietly. “I can’t keep apologizing for something I can’t change.”
The light turned green.
I didn’t move.
Cars honked behind me.
“Let it go?” My voice was low. Dangerous. “You want me to let it go?”
“Amai—”
“How the fuck am I supposed to let go of something that changed my lifeforever?”
The words ripped out of me, raw and jagged.
I wasn’t yelling.
I was something worse. Hurt.
“You think I wanted this?” I continued, my voice shaking now. “You think I wanted to spend the last three years knowing I can’t have kids the way normal men do? That I have to pay a stranger a quarter million dollars just to carry my child becauseyouwere too high to think straight?”
“Amai, I didn’t know?—”
“You didn’tcare!” My hand slammed against the steering wheel. “You were too busy getting fucked up to care about anything. And when we fought—when you shoved me into that table—you didn’t think about what it would cost me. You didn’t think aboutanything.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
“I’m sorry,” Kaisen whispered.
“I don’t want your apology.”
“Then what do you want?”
I stared at the contract.
At the future sitting in a manila folder.
At the woman I was about to give it to.
“I want you to stay the fuck out of my business,” I said, my voice flat again. Empty. “I want you to stop asking questions. I want you to let me handle this my way. And I want you to understand that some things don’t get forgiven just because you’re clean now.”
“Amai—”
“We’re done.”
