Aria's pov

My husband is not a cheater.

My husband is not a cheater.

Those words kept ringing in my head like a broken record. I held onto them like they were the last solid thing in a world that suddenly felt shaky.

I know my husband. He could be thoughtless, yes. He forgot things, He put work first far too often but cheating? Being with someone else?

No. He would never do that to me.

I kept whispering it to myself as I walked into the hotel lobby.

If you really believed he wouldn't do that to you…..then why are you here?

The question came from that small voice in the back of my head. The one I usually ignored.

But this time, I didn’t have an answer.

I guess four years of being slowly forgotten will do that to a person. Create cracks Letting doubt creep in.

If I had gotten this text four years ago, I would’ve blocked the number and laughed about it in bed with him. We probably would’ve ended up having sex just to prove how ridiculous it was.

But that version of us felt far away now. Like someone else's story.

I reached the door. Room 303.

My hand hovered over the wood, fingers trembling. The number stared back at me like it knew something I didn’t.

I was about to knock, to put an end to this ridiculous doubt, when I noticed the door was already open enough to invite me in. Or warn me to stay away.

I stood there, frozen, every nerve buzzing. My chest rose and fell too fast, like my lungs couldn’t decide if they wanted air or not.

Please… let this be nothing. Let this be a mistake. Let him still be mine.

I pushed the door gently, and it gave way without resistance.

At first, it was quiet. The kind of silence that almost convinced me I’d been wrong to come. But then I heard it.

The rhythm of skin against skin.

A woman’s moan, breathless and needy.

The bed creaking in a steady, merciless tempo.

Each sound was a knife, sliding deeper, twisting.

The bedroom door inside the suite was slightly open. Just enough to give me a glimpse if I leaned forward. I told myself to turn around, to leave before the truth branded itself into me forever.

But I didn’t.

I took that one step.

And I saw.

Marcel.

My husband.

Standing behind her—his secretary. His hands gripping her waist, his body pressed into hers. He was inside her.

For a moment, my brain refused to understand what my eyes were showing me. It was like staring at a stranger who happened to wear my husband’s skin.

But then he slowed. His movements faltered, like he felt the air shift, like he knew I was there.

Panic shot through me and I backed away from the door, heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it.

My hand flew to my mouth. I swallowed so hard it hurt, tears already stinging at the back of my eyes.

A part of me had expected this.

No one changes overnight. No one becomes a stranger for no reason.

But God, I never thought we’d get here.

Not us.

Memories flooded me in fragments—his promises, our wedding vows …everything. Each one shattered in my chest, splintering into dust

I didn’t even run. I didn’t scream. I didn’t throw anything. I just walked like my legs were carrying someone else’s body.

My arms wrapped around my stomach. That scar beneath my clothes pulsed like it knew.

It’s the part of me that never lets me forget what I lost. What I’ll never have. The piece of me that makes me feel broken. Barren. Incomplete. Like I’m not enough. Like I’ll never be enough.

I kept walking. One foot in front of the other. Until their sounds were nothing but an echo behind me.

I reached the door and pulled it closed.

Firm. Final.

And then I stood in the hallway, staring at nothing.

I tried to take a step but the floor tilted ,my vision blurred and I couldn't breathe

My chest was tight, I pressed my hand to the wall to steady myself but it didn’t help.

Before I could hit the ground, someone caught me.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, steadying me.

“Breathe,” he said gently, his voice calm and even. “I need you to do that for me. Just breathe. Count with me.”

His voice anchored me. We counted together, slowly, as I tried to take deep breaths in and out. My chest still felt tight, but I followed his voice like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

Before I could fully understand what was happening, my head started spinning. Everything went fuzzy, and I let the darkness take me.

~~~~~

I woke up with a groan, my body heavy and unfamiliar.

I turned my head slowly and saw a nurse by the IV stand, adjusting the drip.

“Oh my, you're finally awake,” she said, sounding relieved. “Give me just a minute to get the doctor.”

She walked to the door, then paused as it opened from the other side .

“She’s awake, Doctor.”

The words echoed through my mind, but my heart sank as everything from last night came rushing back. The hotel. The room. What I saw. What I couldn’t unsee.

I sat up slowly, my whole body aching like I had run through a storm.

“Good morning, Mrs. King,” the doctor said kindly, stepping into the room.

“Good morning,” I replied quietly. My voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else.

“Please…..what happened to me, Doctor?”

I needed to know. I needed to hear something that made sense. Because right now, nothing in my world did

He gave me a small smile. “Oh, it’s nothing serious Just stress and exhaustion. You need to rest, try to relax.”

I nodded slowly, not fully absorbing his words. My eyes shifted to the side when I noticed movement near the door.

Someone was standing there, just watching me.

I turned fully to look.

It was Aiden.

Before I could even begin to process why he was here or what that meant, the doctor’s next words froze everything inside me.

“It’s not good for you. Or the baby.”

I nodded out of habit.

Then his words clicked.

Wait.

I blinked, and my heart skipped a beat.

I looked up at him, confusion etched on my face.

“Excuse me?”