"I think you're drunk..."

"I'm not drunk. I'm not. I know what I'm saying." Her voice was calm but firm. "I need to feel... wanted. Or do you have a girlfriend?"

“No, I don't.....”

“Then you must be married,” Rebecca cut in.

“I’m not married.”

“Then what's stopping you? What? You don't find me attractive?” she asked, feeling slightly shy she was being rejected this way.

“No. Of course not. I–– I find you very attractive, Becca. As a matter of fact, I also want to do this but I can't. You're not in your right mind and I’d hate to take advantage of you.”

"You're not. I'm freely asking. I'm giving my consent. Please. Just hold me, make love to me and make this pain go away even if it's just for this night. I'm not asking for forever...."

"I couldn't give you forever even if that's what you wanted ––"

Before he could finish, Rebecca pressed her soft lips to his, cutting off his words.

Rek pulled away, even though he could hardly control himself anymore.

Rebecca’s face fell and she swallowed. “I guess you don’t find me attractive enough,” Rebecca murmured, her voice breaking slightly as she turned away, her arms wrapping around herself as though to protect what was left of her pride.

But before she could take another step, Rek reached for her, his hand closing gently around her wrist.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his voice low, rough, almost pleading.

Rebecca turned back, and the look in his eyes made her heart stutter. There was something unguarded there, something that mirrored her own pain.

He tugged her closer, slow, and deliberate, until the space between them vanished. And then his lips found hers.

The kiss was nothing like she expected. It wasn’t gentle neither was it careful. It was deep and consuming, the kind of kiss that took her breath and replaced it with something dangerously close to relief.

All the pain, all the grief, all the betrayal just melted into that kiss.

Her fingers clutched at his shirt as though afraid he might disappear or change his mind. His hands framed her face, then slid down to her back, holding her like he was afraid she’d shatter.

He pulled away only for a moment, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing hard.

“This isn’t what you want,” he whispered, his voice thick with restraint.

“It’s exactly what I want,” Rebecca breathed, tears burning her eyes. “Just for tonight… please.”

For a moment, neither moved. The storm raged outside, rain slapping against the windows like the world was trying to stop them. But neither of them cared.

Rek’s resolve broke. He cupped her face again, kissing her deeply, not out of desire alone, but out of something unspoken. A need to take away her pain. A need to forget his own.

Their movements were clumsy, desperate, fueled by heartbreak and exhaustion. The air between them burned with something that wasn’t just attraction, it was sorrow, loneliness, and the fragile illusion of comfort.

When Rebecca finally fell against him, she wasn’t thinking of Liam or Vanessa or the pain they caused her. She wasn’t thinking of what tomorrow would bring.

She was thinking only of warmth — the kind she hadn’t felt in so long. And for a few fleeting hours, she let herself drown in it, telling herself she was going to enjoy it all.

The next morning, the first thing she felt was bright, unrelenting sunlight spilling across her face, pulling her slowly out of sleep.

Her head ached faintly, the heaviness behind her eyes a reminder of how much she’d cried. For a moment, she lay there, staring at the ceiling, unsure of where she was.

Then the faint scent of whiskey and coffee brought it all rushing back.

The betrayal and how she'd met the stranger, Rek. And the desperate, painful way she had begged him to make her forget.

Rebecca’s heart sank into her chest. She turned her head slowly, half-afraid of what she’d see.

But the space beside her was empty. He was gone.

Her gaze drifted to the small table by the window, where her car keys sat neatly beside her handbag. Her dress, washed and carefully laid over the couch, looked out of place in the sleek hotel room.

For a moment, she just sat there, staring at them. They were reminders of a night she couldn’t undo.

Her throat tightened. She couldn’t stay here. She didn’t belong here. But at the same time, she dreaded going back home to see the faces of those betrayals. Yet, she knew she had to go.

With quiet, shaky movements, she got up and slipped into the dress. The faint scent of his cologne clung to her skin, and she found herself brushing her palms down her arms as if to erase it.

He didn’t even leave a note. She thought and then sighed before walking out.

The drive back home felt longer than usual. The world outside looked painfully normal, a cruel contrast to the chaos inside her chest.

When she finally pulled into the Smith estate, she paused for a moment in the car, taking a deep breath before stepping out.

She had hoped the house would be quiet.

But the moment she stepped inside, she saw them, her uncle Richard, Vanessa, and Liam, all gathered in the sitting room.

She thought she wouldn't feel anything but then her stomach clenched painfully.

Vanessa’s face lit up first, her voice dripping with practiced concern. “Becca! Oh my God, where have you been? We’ve been calling you all night!”

Rebecca didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The sight of Vanessa and Liam sitting together made bile rise in her throat. How could she not have noticed anything? How long have they been fooling her?

Liam’s jaw tightened, his tone more irritated than worried. “Yeah, where exactly were you, Rebecca? You just vanished despite knowing your parents were gone and even though you knew we'd call be worried, you ignored all our calls.”

Richard stood up, relief softening his features. “Rebecca, thank God you’re alright. I was beginning to worry something terrible had happened. Where did you go last night?”

Rebecca’s lips parted, but no words came out. She didn’t owe them explanations. Not them. Especially not the two people who had destroyed what little was left of her heart.

She turned toward the staircase, hoping to escape to her room before her emotions betrayed her.

But Liam stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Don’t you walk away from me, Rebecca!”

She froze, her fingers tightening around the banister.

“I asked you a question,” he said again, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. His grip was firm, possessive.

“Let go of me,” she said quietly.

But instead of listening, Liam leaned closer. His nose brushed the air near her shoulder and then his expression shifted.

He frowned. “What’s that smell?” he asked, looking at her suspiciously.

Rebecca blinked. “What?”

“That cologne.” His eyes darkened, his voice rising. “It’s not mine. You’ve been with a man!”

“Liam!” Richard’s tone turned stern. “That’s enough! Don’t accuse her of things you don’t know!”

But Liam wasn’t listening. His anger was unraveling into something uglier. “If she wasn’t guilty, she’d deny it. Look at her, she won’t even say anything! You’ve been cheating on me, haven’t you, Rebecca? Haven't I been good to you? Isn't my love enough?”

Rebecca let out a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a choked sob. “Your love?” she asked in a mocking tone. “You know what? Why don't you keep your love, Liam? I’m done. The engagement is over.”

Vanessa gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth in exaggerated shock. “Rebecca, how could you say that? How could you do something so evil to someone who's been nothing but good to you? Our parents just died, and you’re out there—sleeping with someone else? You couldn’t even mourn properly! Now, Liam's calling you out and you're breaking up. That's not fair.”

Rebecca’s head snapped toward her stepsister, fury flashing in her eyes. “Don’t you dare talk about mourning, Vanessa. You never cared about my father. You never cared about anyone but yourself.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened as tears welled up. “Why would you say something like that? I’ve always loved this family. I’ve always cared about you and dad.”

“Enough,” Richard said firmly, his tone carrying the weight of exhaustion. “Rebecca, that’s enough. You’re upset, and I understand that, but watch your words. Your father just died yesterday. Don’t start something that’ll divide this family even more.”

Rebecca turned to him, her voice soft but firm. “I know that, Uncle. That’s why I want to honor him properly by starting the burial arrangements.”

Richard nodded slowly, gesturing for them to sit. “Yes. We should do that.”

Rebecca sank into the seat, her eyes fixed on the table but her mind miles away, already burying more than just her father.

She was burying the girl who used to believe in love, family, and trust.

They started talking and making arrangements. The next few days passed in a blur.

The house was filled with mourners, flowers, and condolences that meant nothing.

Rebecca moved through it all like a ghost, doing what was expected of her but feeling nothing.

Vanessa, of course, played the grieving daughter perfectly, crying in front of guests, clinging to Rebecca whenever someone was watching, and whispering empty words of comfort that made Rebecca’s skin crawl.

By the end of the third week, everything had been done. The burial was complete. The condolences stopped coming. The house finally fell silent again.

But peace was nowhere in sight.

It was on a quiet Monday morning when Richard called both Rebecca and Vanessa to the sitting room. The weight in his tone told Rebecca it wasn’t a casual meeting.

When they all sat, Richard folded his hands over his knee, his expression serious but kind. “Rebecca, how are you feeling? You’ve seemed… off lately. I know this has all been hard on you.”

This was why she hated them all. She also lost her mother, yet, Rebecca was the one getting all the attention. Vanessa thought bitterly.

Rebecca offered a faint smile, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine, Uncle. Just… tired.”

Richard nodded. “Understandable.” He hesitated for a moment before glancing at both sisters. “I called you two here to tell you something important.”

Vanessa straightened immediately, pretending curiosity, while Rebecca tried to sit still, though a strange unease began to rise in her stomach.

Richard took a deep breath. “It’s about your father’s will. He left something—”

But before he could finish, Rebecca’s vision blurred and a wave of nausea hit her hard. Her stomach twisted violently, and she pressed a hand to her lips.

“Rebecca?” Richard’s voice echoed distantly, concern lacing his tone.

She barely made it to her feet before rushing out of the room.

The next moments were a haze. The sound of Vanessa’s voice calling her name faded as she stumbled down the hallway. She reached the nearest bathroom and fell to her knees, her body wracked with violent heaves.

When the nausea finally subsided, a cold sweat covered her skin. She tried to steady herself against the sink, but the room tilted. Her head felt heavy. She tried to steady herself but darkness swept over her, and before she knew it, her knees went weak and she collapsed.

When Rebecca opened her eyes again, everything was white. The faint beeping of a heart monitor hummed beside her.

She blinked slowly, disoriented. The sterile scent of antiseptic told her she was in a hospital.

Then she heard a familiar voice.

“Rebecca,” Richard said softly, leaning forward in his chair. The deep lines on his face looked sharper than usual. “Thank God you’re awake.”

Rebecca swallowed, her throat dry. “What… what happened?”

Richard hesitated, his voice lowering, even though his anger could be visibly seen. “Who’s the father?”

Rebecca blinked, confused. “Who’s father? What are you talking about?”

Richard let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “The father to your damned baby, Rebecca. You’re pregnant. Is it Liam's?”