Chapter 122. Old Study Room

Tristan's POV

I closed the door to my old study room behind me with a soft click, the weight of the old oak groaning in its hinges, as though it too mourned with me. The study room smelled of aged books. Dust clung to the corners of the room, but I didn't care.

The chair creaked as I sank into it, leather cracked at the edges, worn from long nights I used to spend here with Estelle, her legs curled under her on the recliner, a journal in her lap, her eyes lighting up when she caught me watching her instead of working.

I reached slowly toward the drawer on my right. My hand trembled with the weight of what I knew waited inside. A fragment of a life we were supposed to have.

My fingers brushed the edge of the picture. A black and white blur that once held our entire future in its grainy outline. I held the ultrasound