PART 2 — THE MAN I THOUGHT WAS DEAD – News
No goodbye.
Just silence.
And then, three weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant.
I tried to contact his family.
They refused to see me.
His father told me Alexander had never loved me.
He said Alexander had been planning to leave me anyway.
I didn’t believe him.
But I was nineteen.
Alone.
Terrified.
And pregnant.
Eventually, I stopped searching.
I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.
I named him Brandon.
And for twenty years, I carried one secret in my heart:
I never stopped believing Alexander was alive.
Until that night in the mansion.
Until now.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Alexander’s voice pulled me back into the present.
I stared at him.
“I thought you were dead.”
His expression hardened.
“I thought you were dead too.”
I froze.
“What?”
He reached for the
“Your family told me you left Chicago with another man.”
My mouth fell open.
“My family?”
He nodded.
“They told me you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“That’s impossible.”
“They showed me a letter.”
My chest tightened.
“What letter?”
“A letter supposedly written by you.”
I stepped closer.
“What did it say?”
His eyes met mine.
“That you had chosen someone else.”
I shook my head violently.
“I never wrote that.”
“I know.”
The words came out quietly.
“I know now.”
Silence filled the bathroom.
Twenty years of grief suddenly had a shape.
A face.
A name.
A family.
Someone had lied to both of us.
Someone had deliberately kept us apart.
But why?
Alexander suddenly reached for my wrist.
I flinched.
He immediately let go.
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes fell to the hospital-style medical bracelet I was still wearing from my recent appointment.
Then his gaze moved to my face.
“You have
