Chapter 7

Fiona's POV

The truth about the baby came to light very quickly.

Based on the hospital band serial number, the police traced the birth to a high-end private maternity retreat. The facility initially cited client privacy, but they complied once the police presented a formal warrant.

The baby had been born at a private hospital affiliated with the retreat. The mother had registered under a fake name, but the bank account used to pay the bills belonged to Hailey's aunt. Furthermore, Sean's license plate had been captured entering the retreat's garage on the day of the birth.

Sean could no longer play innocent.

He cornered me at a coffee shop near campus. I had just finalized my departure details with my advisor and was about to head home.

Sean stood at the entrance, looking exhausted and significantly thinner. "Fiona, we need to talk."

"My lawyer is right here," I said, pointing to the man sitting next to me.

Sean froze, then let out a bitter laugh. "You won't even see me without a lawyer now?"

"Correct."

My bluntness left him speechless.

He slowly sat down, his voice cracking. "The baby is mine. It was an accident. Hailey and I got drunk one night... and then she got pregnant. I panicked. I was terrified you would leave me if you found out, so I came up with this plan."

I stared at him. "Your plan was to package your child as an abandoned baby and dump him on me?"

Sean's eyes turned red. "I didn't want to hurt you. I just knew how kind-hearted you are. I thought if you raised him for a bit, you would fall in love with him, and even if you found out the truth later, you wouldn't be able to leave."

"So you gambled on my kindness."

"I gambled on our love!" Sean pleaded, reaching across the table. "Fiona, you're the one I love. Hailey was just a mistake. If we raise this baby together, we can still have a perfect family."

I wanted to laugh at his audacity.

I had heard some disgusting things in my past life, but his ability to spin his betrayal into an act of love still shocked me.

"A perfect family?" I asked slowly. "The biological mother watches from the sidelines, the biological father pretends he found the kid in an alley, and the fiancée gives up her career to raise him? You call that a perfect family?"

Sean's face turned ash-gray.

"I know I messed up," he whispered, swallowing his pride. "But please, don't go to Europe. I can't handle this on my own. The baby needs medical care, and Hailey is falling apart. If you stay, we can start over."

Looking at him, I felt the memory of my past self slipping away.

Why had I ever loved a man like this?

Perhaps Sean was never worth it. I had simply projected all my youthful fantasies onto him, refusing to admit I had made a terrible mistake.

"Sean," I said. "You're not struggling because the situation is hard. You're struggling because you don't want to take responsibility."

I stood up to leave.

Sean jumped up. "Fiona!"

My lawyer stepped in, blocking him. "Mr. Sean, if you continue to harass my client, we will call the police."

I slipped my lawyer's business card into my bag.

I was no longer in the business of cleaning up Sean's messes.

On the ride home, my lawyer warned me, "Sean is extremely unstable right now. He might try to corner you again before your flight. Do not meet him alone."

I nodded. "I know."

I wasn't afraid of Sean.

I had simply learned that putting yourself in danger isn't "brave." It's foolish.

In my past life, I believed our years together meant he would never truly hurt me. But I learned the hard way that harm doesn't always come in the form of physical violence. Sometimes, a coerced signature, a guilt-trip, or a stolen opportunity can destroy your life just as easily.

Outside the car window, the city lights blurred past.

Looking at my reflection, I realized how young I still was.

At this exact age in my past life, I was already learning how to mix baby formula, walking on eggshells around Sean's mother, and crying quietly into my pillow at night.

Now, I had the time to choose differently.

And that was worth everything.

Sean sent me dozens of messages after that. Sometimes he begged, sometimes he cursed, and sometimes he pretended nothing happened, asking if I had eaten. I didn't reply to a single one.

I realized that ignoring him was a skill, a way of training myself to no longer be controlled by his emotions.

In the past, whenever Sean was unhappy, I would immediately analyze what I had done wrong.

Now, whether he was happy or falling apart was entirely his own problem.

I was completely done with him.