CHAPTER 22: CHAPTER 22 IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE

Serena’s POV

The door opened, and there he was—Ryan.

His usually perfect appearance was disheveled, hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. Dark circles under his eyes. Tie loosened.

"Serena," he breathed, relief washing over his face when he saw me awake. "Thank God."

"You’re actually the last person I want to see right now," I cut him off, my voice surprisingly steady despite the storm raging inside me.

Ryan stopped mid-step, looking like I’d just slapped him. Good. Maybe now he knew how it felt to be blindsided.

"Serena, please. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay," he said, his voice dropping lower. "When I saw you fall..."

"When you saw me get pushed, you mean," I corrected, wincing as pain shot through my skull. "By your girlfriend."

His jaw tightened. "Ivy is not my girlfriend. She never was."

"Could’ve fooled me." I turned my face away, eyes fixed on the bland hospital wall.

"This time, I’m not going to let it slide just because of you," I said, voice steady but cold. "I’m going to sue Ivy. I’m done letting her get away with this."

The silence that followed was heavier than I expected. When I glanced back at Ryan, his face had hardened into that familiar CEO mask I knew too well.

"That’s not necessary," he said carefully. "The situation can be handled privately."

I couldn’t believe my ears. "Handled privately? Like everything else in your life? She pushed me down a flight of stairs, Ryan! I have a concussion!"

"And I’ll make sure she faces consequences," he insisted, taking another step closer. "But a public lawsuit will only create a media circus. It won’t help you heal."

"Oh, I get it now." I let out a bitter laugh that made my head throb. "You’re worried about the Blackwood name being dragged through the mud. God forbid Sophie’s precious little sister gets exposed as the psychopath she is."

Ryan’s eyes flashed dangerously. "This isn’t about protecting Ivy—"

"Bullshit!" I tried to sit up straighter, ignoring the wave of dizziness. "It’s always about protecting someone else. Sophie. Ivy. The company. Everyone except me!"

His eyes darkened, voice heavy with regret. "I made a promise to Sophie. I had no choice—"

My voice cracked, tears threatening to spill over. "Sophie, Sophie, always Sophie in our marriage. Always because of Sophie, I was ignored. We’re divorced—so why is it still like this?"

I looked at him, pain and fury burning in my eyes. "Tell me, Ryan,when have you ever truly been there for me?"

For once, the mighty Ryan Blackwood was speechless, his face paling as if struck.

"You need to leave," I said, my chest heaving with emotion. "Now."

"Serena, please—"

"GET OUT!" I shouted, then immediately regretted it as pain exploded behind my eyes.

The door burst open, and Maya rushed in, her fiery red-brown hair flying behind her like a battle flag.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, taking in my tears and Ryan’s tense posture. "Is he bothering you?"

"Yes," I whispered, suddenly exhausted.

Maya drew herself up, pointing toward the door. "You heard her. Out."

Ryan’s gaze moved between us, his expression darkening. "This isn’t over, Serena."

"Yes, it is," Maya snapped. "You’ve done enough damage. Security’s right outside if you need help finding the exit."

Ryan’s jaw worked silently for a moment. Then, with one last unreadable look at me, he turned and walked out.

The moment the door closed behind him, I collapsed back against the pillows, tears finally streaming down my face.

"That asshole," Maya muttered, rushing to my side. "Are you okay? Should I call the nurse?"

I shook my head slightly, wiping at my tears. "No, I’m fine. Well, not fine, but... God, Maya, everything is so messed up."

She sat on the edge of my bed, taking my hand in hers. "Julian called me. He told me what happened at the restaurant." Her eyes darkened. "I always knew that Ivy was a snake."

"It gets worse," I whispered, my free hand unconsciously moving to rest on my stomach.

Maya’s sharp eyes caught the movement immediately. Her expression shifted from anger to something else—concern, confusion.

"Serena," she said slowly, "what’s going on?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath. "I’m pregnant."

Her mouth dropped open. "Holy shit," she breathed after a moment. "Ryan’s?"

I nodded miserably. "Six weeks. The one night I foolishly thought things were changing between us?"

"Oh, sweetie." Maya squeezed my hand tighter.

"I can’t do this, Maya," I whispered, fresh tears spilling over. "I can’t have his baby. Not after everything."

"So don’t," she said simply. "It’s your body, your choice."

I swallowed hard. "The doctors say I might not be able to have children again if I terminate. Something about my hormone levels..."

Maya’s eyes widened. "What?"

"They need to run more tests, but..." I couldn’t finish the sentence. The weight of this choice was crushing me.

Maya was quiet for a long moment, her thumb tracing soothing circles on my hand. When she spoke again, her voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it.

"Listen to me," she said. "This baby isn’t Ryan’s. I mean, biologically, sure. But this baby is yours, Serena. Yours. You don’t need him to have this child. You don’t need anyone."

I stared at her, tears blurring my vision.

"And you wouldn’t be alone," she continued fiercely. "You’d have me. And Julian, though God knows he’s already halfway in love with you."

"I don’t know if I can do it," I admitted, my voice small. "Single motherhood? After everything else?"

"You rebuilt your entire life after that sham of a marriage," Maya reminded me. "You started Dreamland from nothing. You’re the strongest person I know, Serena Quinn."

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine it—a baby with my eyes, maybe Ryan’s jawline. A life growing inside me. My child.

"What if the baby looks like him?" I whispered. "What if every time I look at my own child, I’m reminded of everything I lost?"

Maya’s hand tightened around mine. "Then you’ll see all the things you gained instead. A piece of yourself that no one can take away. Not even Ryan Blackwood."

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My heart was too full of fear and possibility and grief and hope—all tangled together into a knot I couldn’t begin to unravel.

"You don’t have to decide right now," Maya said gently. "The doctors said you need rest for your concussion anyway, right? Take some time. Think about what you want—not what Ryan would want, not what I would do—what you want."

I nodded slightly, careful not to jostle my aching head.

"And no matter what you choose," she said softly, her eyes steady, "I’m with you. Every step of the way."

After a moment, she gave me a gentle smile. "Now, please—get some rest. You need it."

As the door closed behind her, I sank onto the bed, one hand instinctively resting over my still-flat stomach.

Finally, the tears I’d been holding back spilled freely down my cheeks.

What the hell was I going to do now?