My Unborn Daughter Warned Me Not To Marry Him Chapter 07
Everything He Built, Burning
[Third-person POV: Josh]
The regret hits him like a wrecking ball.
Josh clutches his chest. Turns every ounce of rage on Sloane.
“You like playing sick? You like pretending to be her?”
“Great. Play sick for real.”
“Every single thing she went through, you’re gonna feel it. All of it.”
He waves a hand at the bodyguard.
“Take her. Private facility. Locked ward.”
Sloane loses her mind. “You can’t do this to me, Josh! I didn’t do a damn thing to her!”
Josh smashes a glass off the desk.
“You seduced me! You dressed up like her, talked like her, cried like her!”
He grabs her chin. His eyes are bloodshot.
“You made me lose my Autumn. You think that comes free?”
Sloane stares at the crazy in his eyes.
Then she laughs. Loud. Ugly.
“I made you lose her? Ha! Ha ha ha!”
“Did I put a gun to your head, Josh? Did I drag you into bed?”
“Did I force you to erase every piece of her from your life?”
“You wanna know something? That day you brought me to the penthouse? I saw her. Through the crack in the door.”
“She was standing right there. She already knew everything!”
“And you? You were texting her that you were in a meeting. So tell me, Josh. Was it me who killed her heart, or was it *you*?”
Smack.
Josh’s hand cracks across her face.
“Shut. Up. Shut up!”
Blood at the corner of her mouth. Pure hate in her eyes.
“Josh Winters. You are a coward. A gutless, cheating coward, dumping it all on the woman.”
“Ha ha ha! No wonder she left you! You had it coming!”
They drag her out. But her words stay. They loop in his head. Won’t stop.
Josh grabs his skull with both hands. A tear hits the floor.
“Autumn… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
The door bangs open. His assistant. Pale.
“Boss. We have a problem.”
“The bride-swap video leaked. It’s everywhere. TikTok. Twitter. Every damn platform.”
“They’ve already dug up the timeline on you and Sloane. They know when it started.”
“And the seed money from Ms. Hale’s painting, that’s public record. The internet is *eating you alive.*”
“Boss. Should I get PR to put out a statement? Say you and Ms. Hale split months ago?”
Josh doesn’t move. Just shakes his head.
“No statement.”
“But sir, the stock, the company!”
Josh leans his head back against the chair.
“I owe her this. I deserve this.”
—
One month. That’s all it takes to burn ten years to the ground.
Every charity photo op he ever posed for, gone. Replaced with headlines calling him a fraud. Stock in free fall. Three flagship products boycotted. Investors ghosting his calls.
Then the killing blow.
Ms. Rowling, his biggest investor, pulls out.
She sits across from him. Sips her whiskey. Never once looks him in the eye.
“You know why I backed you, Josh? Autumn’s painting. That’s why.”
“She told me once, the worst moment of her life, you were the one who stood in the rain with her. The one boat in her flood.”
“Turns out the boat sank anyway.”
“I’m old-fashioned, Josh. I don’t invest in men who cheat on the woman who made them.”
Josh’s mouth opens. Closes. Nothing comes out.
For years now, he’s walked into rooms and heard nothing but applause.
Josh Winters: self-made genius.
Josh Winters: one to watch.
Josh Winters: the American dream.
Somewhere along the way, he forgot. Every step of that road? Autumn painted it under his feet. Stroke by stroke.
He erased her. Just quietly wiped her off his own story. Told himself he built it alone.
And then, without missing a beat, he took what other women offered.
And demanded Autumn stay quiet. Stay pretty. Stay the perfect wife. So the world would keep clapping.
Josh sits alone in his office. Empty bottle in one hand. Old sketchbook in the other. Her old sketchbook.
He laughs. He cries. He does both at once. And nobody’s there to see it.
—