Aria's pov

"What?"

The word left my lips before I could stop it.

The doctor looked at me, confused.

"You said baby... just now. Right?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Um, yes. You're basically about a month along. I assumed you already knew."

My heart stopped. I shook my head slowly.

"But I can't have kids. I'm barren. Am I not?"

There was a pause. I could feel pressure building behind my eyes, my vision blurring.

The doctor’s face shifted, more serious now.

"I saw the scar. If the cut had been deep enough, then yes, medically, you would be considered barren. But somehow... this happened. It's very unusual, I'll admit. Please make sure to come in for regular checkups. You're in the clear for now."

He said it casually, like he hadn’t just flipped my entire world upside down. Then he gave me a small nod and walked out of the room.

I sat there in silence, completely still.

And then my eyes found Aiden.

Aiden Baker.

My husband’s biggest competition.

All three of us met back in college. Aiden used to be a friend…..until that night.

I took a deep breath.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“You passed out in the hallway,” he said calmly. “I brought you to the hospital.”

The memory rushed back his arms holding me up, helping me breathe. I looked at him again, softer this time.

“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate it. I really do. But you didn’t have to wait.”

“I wanted to , I needed to make sure you were okay ” he said and I nodded quietly.

“You’re here because of Marcel, aren’t you?” Aiden asked, his face unreadable.

I didn’t say a word.

“I asked you a question, Aria,” he said again, this time louder, his voice sharp with frustration.

“And I’m not giving you an answer,” I replied, my tone calm but firm. “What happens between me and the father of my child is none of your business.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re really defending him? After everything he did to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I said quietly. “Can you please just leave?”

I was tired. Tired of arguing, tired of explaining myself. There were bigger things to deal with right now. Things that mattered so much more.

“I’ll leave so you can change,” he added before walking out the door.

I didn’t want to think about him right now.

I am pregnant.

I stepped out of bed and stood in front of the mirror. Slowly, I undressed, my eyes settling on the scar.

It ran from the right side of my abdomen to just below my navel. I traced it with my fingers, remembering how Marcel used to kiss it whenever he saw me naked. He used to leave hickeys on it, like it was something beautiful. Like I was something beautiful.

But that was a long time ago.

Now... now I have more important things to think about.

“You deserve better than an absent father,” I whispered to the tiny life growing inside me.

“And I deserve better than a husband who disappeared ... and cheated.”

I should cry. Maybe I would. But maybe I used up all my tears yesterday.

I looked down at my wedding ring.

And just like that, I knew what I had to do.

~~~~~

Aiden offered to drop me off, but I said no. I took a cab home instead.

“Ma’am... you’re back,” Mrs. Potts said as I walked through the door.

“Yes. Good morning,” I replied, heading straight for the stairs.

But she stopped me with her next words.

“Sir is home. He said he’d like to see you.”

That was the real shock. He was home.

I let out a small laugh, dry and bitter. “Okay. Thank you.”

I walked to the study and opened the door. His eyes met mine the second I stepped inside.

Those eyes. Dark as night. Just like his hair. The tattoos on his arms peeked out from beneath his shirt sleeves. My heart always reacted when I looked at him. It almost did now, but then last night’s memory hit me again like a slap.

His eyes didn’t leave me. His face was calm, unreadable. There was something else in his gaze too, but I didn’t want to look closely enough to name it.

I sat down across from him, trying to hold myself steady.

“Where were you?” he asked, his voice sharp and low.

“Out,” I answered simply.

He sighed. A long, tired breath. Not the kind that comes from worry more like someone carrying a weight they put on themselves.

Then he slid a brown envelope across the desk toward me.

My eyes dropped to it and my stomach turned to nuts

The words on the front were like nails in my chest. Breathing suddenly felt like something I had to remember how to do. Still, I kept my face calm.

“I want a divorce, Aria,” he said.

And just like that, everything inside me broke further….quietly.

“What?” I asked, even though I’d heard him clearly the first time.

“I want a divorce,” he repeated, like he was twisting the knife a little deeper.

I had planned to pack my things, leave for a while, then come back and tell him about the baby. That was the plan. But he was already one step ahead talking about separation, like our marriage meant nothing. Like our vows were some kind of joke.

I felt the sting behind my eyes, the pressure building. I finally had a reason to cry again.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I did the one thing I didn’t expect. I laughed. A dry, hollow sound that didn’t match what I was feeling inside. Even I was surprised it came out of me.

He just kept looking at me, his face still. But there was something in his eyes... something I couldn’t name.

“You want a divorce?” I repeated, slowly. I took a deep breath, nodded, then looked him right in the eyes.

“Where do I sign, Marcel?”