Aria’s POV

I woke up to the sound of beeping.

My eyes blinked against the light until the room slowly came into focus. A white ceiling above me. The sharp, sterile smell of disinfectant. And when I turned my head, I saw Aiden and a doctor.

“What happened?” My voice was rough, almost foreign to my own ears. “God… it feels like someone whacked me in the head.”

I pushed myself up, slow and shaky. Aiden rushed forward, steadying me. At first I let him, but when his hands lingered, I pulled away.

That’s when I felt it—throbbing at my temple. My hand flew up, brushing against a thick bandage across my forehead.

“You needed stitches,” the doctor said carefully. His pause after that felt heavy. “And… you fell down the stairs.”

“Down the stairs?” I repeated, my brows knitting. Something about that didn’t sit right.

“Yes.” His tone was gentle, too gentle. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

I closed my eyes, trying to pull the memories forward. They slipped through my fingers like sand. “I was in my hotel room… sorting out my finances. For me and my—”

My hand instinctively moved, pressing against my stomach.

“My baby?” The word came out broken. “Please…”

“Your baby is perfectly healthy,” the doctor reassured quickly. “Completely fine. But…” He hesitated again. “The scans show some trauma. You’re experiencing short-term memory loss. The past few hours may stay blank for a while.”

Relief washed over me, shaky but real. My baby was fine. That was enough to breathe again.

Still… unease prickled at the edges of my mind.

“Why would I take the stairs in a hotel?” I asked quietly, frowning. My gaze flicked between Aiden and the doctor.

Neither of them answered right away.

And then another question hit me.

" Aiden How are you even here right now?"

"I thought we could skip this part," Aiden said, clearing his throat. "But since you're asking…. your husband was at the hotel. You were rushing to go see him."

My heart started beating again, like it finally remembered how.

"Marcel came to see me?" I asked, almost in a whisper.

A smile was starting to tug at my lips…. but Aiden’s next words ripped it away.

"No. He brought someone over. Another woman. And you were rushing to go see them."

My blood turned ice cold.

For the first time, I couldn’t defend the man I had loved for eight years. He cheated on me. Then he divorced me. And then he left me.

I stayed quiet.

I think Aiden took my silence as a sign that I didn’t believe him.

"The CCTV caught something," he said quietly. "At first, I thought someone pushed you…. So I went through the footage. And then I saw this. I’m sorry....they're a bit grainy."

He handed me a small stack of printed images.

Pictures of Marcel.

With another woman.

My fingers trembled as I flipped through them. Each one chipped away at whatever was left of my heart.

How long has this really been going on?

Was I really that bad of a wife?

I supported him. I never asked for much. I didn’t even chase my own dreams because when we got married, I had just finished school and he needed someone he could trust. His father had just passed. He was rebuilding the company from the ground up. So I agreed to stay home and to be there for him.

And little by little, he started acting like I didn’t matter anymore.

My eyes landed on a picture of him with his secretary. That explained a lot. No wonder she always spoke to me like I was an inconvenience.

I remembered going to the office when he started spending more time there. When he stopped coming home.

I just wanted to see him.

She told me I needed to book an appointment.

Then said he was in a meeting.

I waited two hours.

Only for her to smirk and tell me he’d left for a business trip that morning.

I still remember the sound of her voice. Smug. Cold. Almost like she enjoyed breaking the news.

I can still see him fucking her on our anniversary night.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t anymore.

There were no tears left in me.

I closed my eyes, hoping for clarity. Hoping the answers would somehow come.

But what had being married to Marcel ever really given me?

Insults.

Disrespect.

Shame.

Even his colleagues didn’t treat me like his wife. Some didn’t know who I was. The ones who did never cared.

The only beautiful thing I got from that marriage….was my baby.

Then I felt warmth on my cheek.

I opened my eyes and found Aiden crouched in front of me.

“Let me help you, Aria,” he said, his voice low, steady. His eyes didn’t move from mine.

I shifted away from his hand, but he didn’t pull back.

“There’s more footage,” he continued. “It shows Marcel. He saw you lying at the bottom of the stairs. He was on his way to his room with his mistress. He looked at you….and then he walked away…I'm guessing his appointment was more important “

My stomach felt like it was knots like someone punched me there.

“Marcel wouldn’t.…”

But my voice broke and Aiden didn’t argue. He just pulled out his phone and tapped on a video.

The footage played. The image was grainy and a little distant, but it was clear enough.

There I was, lying at the bottom of the stairs.

And there he was—Marcel.

He looked straight at me.

He saw me.

Then he turned.… and walked away.

My hand moved to the screen, needing to see it again, to zoom in, to make sure.

But Aiden practically snatched the phone from me.

“That’s enough,” he said softly. “Watching it again won’t change what happened.”

His voice was calm, but I felt the weight behind his words.

“Think about your baby,” he whispered.

I sucked in a deep breath and let it sit on my chest, heavy but steady. We weren't even married anymore. So what exactly was I holding onto?

A soft touch broke through the storm in my head. Fingers gently brushed my hair back behind my ear. I looked down to find Aiden crouched beside me, his eyes filled with quiet understanding and something else I couldn't quite name

“I’ll always be here for you, Aria,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Just let me help.”

Marcel left me.

I was lying at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding, and he walked away. Just turned his back like I didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t carrying his child....our child.

He left me to go to his mistress. One of many. His latest distraction.

And I lay there, helpless.

So what do I do now?

I wasn’t some secret heiress in one of those glossy stories where the wife rises from heartbreak with a hidden fortune and a plan for revenge. My parents worked hard their entire lives, just to make ends meet. Minimum wage was our reality. I didn’t come from power, or money, or influence.

I was broke.

His family never liked me. I was never good enough for them. So marrying one of his relatives for revenge off the table. Besides, I've already wasted too much of my life trying to be accepted by people who looked right through me.... trying to be accepted as a good wife

I gave up my dreams to support him but once he got what he wanted, I became invisible.

And now, all of that was coming back to bite me

But here’s the thing—I’m still standing tall. There's always a way.

I may not have wealth or power or a last name that opens doors, but I have something else. I have the will to survive and I have my baby.

And I will figure this out.

We don’t need him.

We never will.

I never will.