Chapter Two - Five Days Late

“I don’t recognize you.” I whispered. 

“Look woman, we’ve both had a long evening and I have an early start tomorrow. You need to quit this drama, get your shit together and let me have some peace of mind.”

Sabastine didn't see anything wrong with any of the things he had said and it had me wondering when my husband had transformed into a total stranger. I turned away before he could see me break.

In the room, I shut the door and slid down against it, pressing my hand to my mouth as my body shook. Finally, I let all the emotions from this evening translate into tears and stream down my face. I was tired of being strong. Tired of fighting.

I stayed there longer than I realized. But when my phone vibrated, I managed to push myself off the ground and get it…

It was an app notification from flo. At first, I thought it was something casual until my eyes fell on the words written in italics.

Period is five days late.

My eyes froze on my screen and my breath choked in my throat.

“No, no. No no no.” I panicked. “It can't be. My period was never late.  Maybe I am just sleep deprived and didn't read well.”

My fingers trembled as I closed the app and opened it again but the same words stared back at me.

Period is five days late

My stomach clenched and my knees wobbled. I grabbed the bedside table for support, heart hammering as I tried to get myself together. 

The kit I kept in the cabinet was thankfully there and I snatched it. I walked to the bathroom on auto pilot, hands trembling violently as I tore it open and squatted to urinate. 

A minute later I was done fumbling with the procedure, I set an alarm for 5 minutes and sat at the edge of the tub waiting. For two years now, I had been trying for a baby and it didn't come. And now…

The world went silent and each second stretched into eternity as I waited whispering prayers.

“I cannot be pregnant. Not now.”

The alarm went up causing me to jump up in terror. 

Taking a deep breath and whispering one last prayer, I peeped. Two lines.

I suddenly felt dizzy and my back hit the wall hard. The test kit slipped from my fingers but I caught it before it fell. My knees gave out and I slid down until I was on the floor, my hand still gripping it.

Two impossibly clear, terrifying lines. There was no escaping it. I am pregnant.

I was pregnant for the man who had called me a liability. The man who had told me I was emotionally demanding and weak. Subconsciously, I pressed my palm to my stomach, as though I could somehow shield this secret life growing inside me. 

My body trembled violently, silent sobs shaking me from the inside out.

How could I let this happen? How could I bring a child into a life with a man who couldn’t even look at me like I mattered anymore? For a year now, Sex with Sebastian was only duty. I didn't think it would yield this…

I rocked back and forth, curled around myself. Every argument, every dismissal, every cold word replayed in my head like a looping film. Why now? 

Could I survive this? Could I protect this child from him? I didn’t know the answers to my questions. All I knew was fear—thick, suffocating fear that had me gasping for air. I cried and patted myself for comfort until my arms ached from holding myself and finally, sleep crept over me wrapping me in a fragile warmth. 

The next afternoon, sunlight streamed through the penthouse windows. I sat at the kitchen table, a cup of untouched coffee in front of me. Every movement felt heavy, like wading through water.

A knock startled me. I wiped my eyes, straightened my spine, and opened the door. Julian stood there, that easy smile of his lighting up the space. Sometimes, I wished my husband shared even a fraction of that warmth.

“Elara,” he greeted warmly.

“Sebastian’s in the study,” I said after a few pleasantries.

 “Can I get you a drink?”

Julian nodded. I moved to the kitchen, hands shaking, trying to steady them.

A soft knock at the study door. Sebastian’s gruff voice: “Come in.”

I poured a glass of chilled water and grabbed a scotch. Moving toward the study, I hadn’t meant to listen but the words hit me before I could stop them.

My chest tightened and my heart pounded as my fingers clenched around the doorframe.

Julian’s voice was calm, but disbelief laced it. “Sebastian, that’s harsh. She’s your wife. You’ve been married for years. Maybe you’re being too… blunt.”

“I said what I said,” Sebastian replied, a low laugh escaping him. “She’s too demanding. Too emotional. I can’t deal with that.”

Julian chuckled nervously. “Merciless. If you keep this up, when you eventually have a kid, they’ll have zero self-esteem. Imagine growing up in that shadow.”

“I don’t want a child with her,” Sebastian said, voice low and clear. “If it happens, I’ll handle it. But she’s not built for it. I’m not built for it either.”

Julian hesitated. “If she hears that… she’s fragile right now. And…”

“I don’t care,” he cut in sharply. “Whose side are you on?”

Sebastian’s laugh grated on me. “Of course it’s yours.”

“But maybe that’s how it should be,” Julian replied cautiously. “Life isn’t fair. She’ll learn, and if she doesn’t… that’s her problem. Not yours.”

I stumbled back, silent, heart shattering. The scrape of his chair and the casual way he spoke felt like a blade. Like we weren’t even connected by vows or the life we’d built or I thought we’d built.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Tears brimmed. I had to escape. I backed away, dropped the tray, and fled to the bedroom.

Frantic, I picked up my phone. I needed to act, Sabastian couldn’t know I was pregnant.

I dialed the number I’d been avoiding for months. Now was the time.

“When is the next available flight to Sydney?” I asked, voice shaking.

“Tomorrow afternoon, ma'am ” came the prompt reply.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered, barely audible, my hand trembling over the screen.