Done With My Ex, Moving To The Next

Cryptic Pregnancy

~STELLA~

I'd have chosen death over my marriage.

The last time I'd seen my husband was three months ago. He’d walked in, grabbed his already packed suitcase, and headed back outside to the waiting car.

No goodbye. No explanation. Just nothing aside from the fact that days before that, he had told me he would be going on a business trip.

And that was all.

“It should be your honeymoon, shouldn’t it?” Rhys, his half-brother, asked, stopping before he crossed into the living room.

I forced a small laugh. He was right. A honeymoon was supposed to last for months after a wedding, depending on how the couple wanted it.

It was supposed to be filled with memories, laughter, and two people learning about each other, but mine was nothing like that.

“Dylan just has a lot on his plate,” I let my hair fall over my cheek to hide the healed scar of Dylan's abuse. “He already booked reservations for us at a lot of fancy places.” The lie came out smoother than I intended.

He was everything my husband wasn’t—from the way he carried himself to the way he looked at people and even the way he spoke.

“In case the two of you never talked about me, I’m Rhys. And I already know you’re his wife—.”

“I’m Stella. Stella Rosa Scott.” I slipped my hand into his for a handshake.

I'd seen him once, but it was at a bar and long before I ever met Dylan. He was so hot I almost approached him that day. His grip was firm, warm, and strangely difficult to pull away from. Or maybe it was just because I had been touch-starved for too long.

His eyes lowered slightly as his grip tightened.

No. Whatever this was, it was wrong. This was my husband’s half-brother. Even if Dylan and Rhys were only connected by almost nothing, and they hated each other, it was still wrong.

I pulled my hand away quickly.

“I am sure the tabloids had your name everywhere when you got married.” The arrogance in his voice was obvious. I had seen him on television during his succession ceremony, and I knew confidence came naturally to him. “But was he really your—” He stopped himself.

I knew what he was asking. The question hurt more than I wanted it to. I blinked quickly, refusing to let the tears fall.

“Anyway, I’ll be taking my leave, Miss.” Those cobalt blue eyes of his looked like they could see through the pain I had spent months hiding.

I watched him walk toward the door, every part of me wanting to correct the misunderstanding.

“Mr. Adrian.” He turned, surprised that I called him by his last name.

“Dylan and I are fine,” I said. “And it’s Mrs.”

The sarcasm in his gaze irritated me as he gave a small apology before leaving.

That was it. I watched the front door close behind him. For some reason, his unfinished question stayed with me—Was he really my choice?

I returned to my hell. I was practically married to myself and a man whose name had become mine was somewhere out there, probably cheating like his life depended on it… Women had picked up his phone several times when I called.

What kind of husband disappeared for months after his wedding?

Every day, I regretted being born a Scott.

My family had it all planned out—our schools, our friendships, even the people we married.

Typical old-money aspirants. While I worked on cutting the remaining fabric of my DIY blazer, my phone rang. Dr. Sophia.

“Hello, doc.” I dropped the scissors, holding the phone to my ear.

“Hello, Mrs. Dylan. How are you doing?”

Ugh! I hated that question. She knew exactly how my mornings had been. If I wasn’t waking up angry, I was waking up drowning in emotions I couldn’t control.

“You know, the same thing, doc. It’s been the same for three months. It’s just getting too much, and even worse on my periods…”

She interrupted me. “All right. We finished running your tests this morning and this might be shocking, but it’s good news.”

I grabbed a chair in front of my vanity. “You’re four months pregnant, Mrs. Dylan.”

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “What?” I laughed awkwardly. “What did you say?”

“You’re four months pregnant—”

“That’s impossible.” My fingers tightened around my phone. “I still have my periods. The last one was two weeks ago.”

There was no way.

“It’s possible. I personally had other nurses run the test three different times to make sure there wasn’t a mistake.”

“Then run them again.” My voice sharpened. “Dr. Sophia, I cannot be pregnant. I have been on birth control since I was twenty and it's been six god damn years.”

“Calm down, ma’am.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down.” My chest tightened. “You have no fucking idea what I go through every single day.”

My birth control was still in place. I changed it every year and I still had my periods. So how was this possible?

“Mrs. Dylan—” God, I hated that name so bad I didn't know when I corrected her.

“All right, Stella. Listen to me. Take a deep breath.”

I closed my eyes and did what she said. “In. Out.” I followed her voice until my heartbeat returned to normal, but her next words destroyed everything.

“It’s called a cryptic pregnancy.” Her calm voice slapped my face harshly. “Some women continue to bleed, mistake fetal movements for stomach issues, and don't develop obvious pregnancy symptoms. It's uncommon, but it happens."

Without thinking, my free hand drifted to my stomach but I snatched my hand away as if touching myself had become something forbidden.

"No..." I whispered again, shaking my head. "No…” I couldn’t be carrying Dylan’s child.

“Please tell me you’re lying.” My voice broke. “I swear I won’t be angry. Just tell me you’re joking.”

She sighed before she spoke again, “You know I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

I didn’t know what to say. As tears rolled down my cheeks, the realization hit even harder.

I was pregnant with Dylan's child. The moment he found out, my life would no longer belong to me. He'd force me to keep the baby for his own sake—he wanted an heir.

I pressed my hand against my stomach. For the first time in months, I didn’t feel empty.

And it scared me even more. I couldn’t let Dylan have my child.

I couldn’t raise a baby with a husband who disappeared for months and expected everything to stay normal.

I made my decision.

I called Valerie, my best friend. The moment she stepped into the house, she knew something was wrong. “Stella…”

The words caught in my throat at first but eventually, I broke. “I want an abortion.” For a moment, silence settled between us but she didn't try to change my mind.

She only reached across the table and held my shaking hand.

"I don't want him to own another piece of my life," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

My fingers curled against my stomach before I caught myself and quickly pulled them away. She insisted on driving me to the hospital.

“But you can’t cry forever,” she said, placing a hand over my thigh as she drove through London. “We’ll figure this out.”

I nodded, throwing my gaze outside the window.

“Thank goodness he doesn’t know yet.”

At least Dylan didn’t know.

The drive passed in near silence. Every traffic light felt longer than the last and at one point, I caught my reflection in the passenger window.

I looked the same. My stomach wasn't swollen and there was no glow either—nothing that looked like motherhood. I was just a woman trying to outrun a future she never chose.

When Valerie drove into the hospital parking lot, I opened the door before she had even fully parked. “Stella!”

I ignored her. The moment I entered the hospital, I saw Dr. Sophia at the end of the hallway but I waited for Valerie to catch up while keeping my eyes on them.

She was talking to someone and while I waited, his back was turned.

My steps slowed and my heartbeat stumbled.

Dylan.

I didn’t even remember running back outside. I only remember grabbing Valerie’s hand. “Drive.”

Confusion etched into every pore on her face. “What happened?”

“He knows, Valerie.” My voice shook. “He knows…”

“Who knows—”

“Dylan is inside. Drive as fast as you can. Leave here right now.” I dragged her hand toward the key, begging as my sobs broke out of me.

“Stella—”

“Please.” Immediately, she stepped on the accelerator and the car lurched forward. I turned backwards, checking around as she drove out. My phone screen suddenly lit up and it was a message from Dylan. I read it from the notification bar.

[Hello, love. How are you both? I’ll be home in a jiffy. I can’t wait to see you.]

My blood ran cold. He said “both.” The word blurred beneath my tears.

Dr Sophia was his personal doctor, and I'd been so stupid to have her run my test. There was no one else “both" would mean.

Holy fucking hell!