Ch3 - No way

Divorce?

Aaron visibly froze. His eyes flickered—just for a split second—but he quickly masked it with his usual calm.

“That’s not a word you should throw around lightly.”

He thought she was just being emotional, saying something she didn’t really mean. He reached out, trying to touch her cheek.

“DON’T touch me.”

Emily leaned back against the headboard, jerking her head away from his hand. Her gaze locked onto the bed sheets.

Yeah… in the past three years, they’d barely fought. A few small arguments here and there, but he’d always been the first to make peace. She never imagined it would spiral to something like this—divorce.

Was it her?

Was she overreacting? Saying something that serious over just one incident?

But the truth was—

The moment the word left her lips, it was like a massive weight lifted off her chest. For the first time that night, she could actually breathe.

Aaron’s fingers slowly curled into a fist, then dropped to his side. Emily didn’t even look at him. The tension between them thickened.

After a long silence, he sighed—tired, maybe even a little helpless.

“Yeah… I didn’t tell you Amelia was back. She came to talk to me about letting our company use her designs. I haven’t agreed to anything yet. If you’re not okay with it, I… I can turn her down.”

Emily’s expression didn’t budge. She just sat there, her face like stone.

Aaron closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again—his voice quieter now, a little rough around the edges.

“She got married years ago. Whatever you're worried about… it’s not happening.”

Emily’s long lashes quivered.

WHAT KIND of a married woman sits in another man’s lap like that?

But that wasn’t the point anymore. Amelia wouldn’t have dared if Aaron hadn’t let her. And the look in Amelia’s eyes—like she was staring down an enemy—that wasn’t innocent.

“So what—her relationship falling apart, and she suddenly remembers you exist?”

The words hit Aaron like a punch to the chest. His head snapped up, eyes sharpening instantly.

Gotcha.

Emily saw it in his face—his parted lips, that flash of guilt. She pieced it together.

He’d loved Amelia before, hadn’t he? Loved and lost. She married someone else, broke his heart—

And then one day, he met someone who looked just like Amelia.

So he projected all that unfinished love onto the lookalike.

Her.

Three years of marriage… and she’d been nothing but a stand-in.

What he called “love” was just a reflection. A shadow. It was never truly for her.

Even now, Emily felt it—Aaron didn’t want to let her go, not because of love, but because he wasn’t ready to lose the illusion.

“YOU’re being ridiculous,” he snapped, all softness gone. “She’s married. Don’t INSULT her like that.”

So that was it.

He had meetings all day, skipped out on a social event just to come home and explain—and this was how she reacted?

What more did she want?

Emily looked at him calmly now, the light completely gone from her eyes, “I know you too well, Aaron. That’s why this hurts so much.”

Aaron was known for his cold, distant nature. Not many could get close to him. Even before they got married—especially after—they never had scandal, never had drama. He never flirted, never let other women near. He carried himself with discipline.

She used to think it was loyalty. 

But after today—catching him like that with Amelia—it shattered everything she believed in.

And the more she thought about it, the more she realized—Without his permission, Amelia would’ve never dared sit in his lap.

This wasn’t just on Amelia. That kind of intimacy only happens when two people allow it.

Now he was back, trying to explain—But all he really cared about was protecting Amelia’s image. Making sure no one thought anything scandalous about a married woman?

Aaron’s face darkened. He shot up from the bed.

“If you really knew me,” he said coldly, “you’d know I don’t do divorce.”

He stood over her, voice commanding, like a final verdict.

Even now, all he wanted was control.

No room for questions.

No space for her voice.

He just wanted her to accept it all.

Emily felt her heart sink, deeper and deeper.

Of course.

If he divorced her right after Amelia showed up, what would people say? To the outside world, he still needed her—his wife,his perfect little cover.

A thousand thoughts raced through Emily’s mind.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit her. The room spun wildly around her, and she pressed her fingertips hard against her temples, trying to steady herself—Probably because she hadn’t eaten all day.

Her body gave out. She slumped back against the pillows, completely drained.

Aaron glanced at her, “You’re probably starving—low blood sugar,” he said flatly.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. He flung the door open and called downstairs,  “Mia, bring the food up!”

Emily’s face had gone completely pale. She didn’t have the strength to say another word to him. She just shut her eyes.

She heard the door open and close again. Then, gradually, the scent of something creamy and warm filled the air—food.

“Eat.”

Emily opened her eyes slowly. A tray of food had been set down in front of her, with a small table popped open across her legs so she could eat comfortably. Aaron handed her a fork.

She stared at the plate—creamy mushroom pasta—and frowned. After a few seconds of mental tug-of-war, she forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, reached out, and took the fork.

She twirled a bit of the pasta halfheartedly.

Aaron didn’t leave. He stood right beside the bed, watching her.

One bite. Then another.

Emily forced herself to eat, not for him—but for the baby. Even though the smell of cream had been making her nauseous lately, she managed to get a few bites down.

But after the third, she just couldn’t do it anymore.She put the fork down and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

“That’s all?” Aaron asked, sighing, “No matter how mad you are at me, don’t take it out on your body.”

The food helped a little, but Emily’s voice was still soft and tired, “I’m not.”

There was barely a dent in the portion—just one corner of the plate missing. Aaron stared at it for a moment, then let out a breath like he was dealing with something helpless. 

He walked back to her side, sat down, picked up the fork, and gently spun it through the pasta, twisting up a bite-sized portion.

Emily watched his movements, momentarily dazed.

If she hadn’t gone to his office today…If she hadn’t seen it herself…Would things still feel normal?

Would he have made a good dad?

“Come on, one more bite.”

She looked at him, “I really can’t.”

He didn’t stop, “You need to take care of yourself. Tomorrow, we’ll go see your grandma at the hospital.”

The words themselves were tender—but the way he said them? Cold. Mechanical.

Emily blinked, stunned. His words echoed in her mind.

“…Are you threatening me?”

She turned her head away, rejecting the bite he held out.

“Eat first,” he said again, unmoved.

Emily bit down on her lip so hard it almost broke skin. He didn’t even deny it.

That little softness she'd felt just moments ago—Gone. Evaporated.

She shoved his hand away. The fork—and the pasta tangled around it—went flying. It hit the floor with a harsh clatter, the metal echoing against the silence that followed.

The room went dead quiet.