[3]

“You’ll be okay, my child,” Venus whispered softly, unconsciously brushing her palm over her still-flat stomach.

In the quiet bedroom, her gaze returned to the pregnancy test results lying on the bedside table. That thin sheet of paper felt unbearably heavy. Earlier that afternoon, when the doctor had delivered the news with a warm smile, Venus’s world had seemed to stop spinning. There had been a rush of emotion she couldn’t breathe through—joy that filled her chest, gratitude too deep for words, and a tenderness that made her heart ache.

She was pregnant.

Carrying Jupiter’s child.

Ever since she left the doctor’s office, the only thing on her mind had been her husband’s face. She had wanted to rush home. Wanted to show him the results and tell him that their love now had a tangible formal life growing from the affection they shared.

But reality chose a different path.

Venus squeezed her eyes shut. Tears slid down her cheeks once more, unstoppable.

“Why is this happening to me?” Her voice broke into a whisper, barely audible.

Her hand moved on its own, reaching for a photo frame on the bedside table.

Their wedding photo.

Jupiter stood beside her with a smile he rarely showed the world—a smile only Venus truly knew. The smile of a man in love, even if he had never been good at putting it into words.

That day, Jupiter had held her hand tightly, as if afraid she might disappear. Their promises had been simple, free of grand vows. They hadn’t promised a life without hardship. They had only promised to stay together—through joy and through pain.

Venus remembered the journey of their love—Jupiter, cold on the surface yet deeply attentive. How they found comfort in small things: simple dinners, late-night conversations, laughter that needed no reason.

And now…

All of it had fallen apart.

Venus stared at Jupiter’s face in the photograph for a long time. Her chest tightened even more. At last, she understood.

Jupiter’s decision wasn’t wrong. If their positions had been reversed, Venus would have made the same choice. How could anyone live—share the same air—with the child of the person who murdered their parents?

The thought cut deeper than anything else.

Venus clenched her fists. A restrained anger simmered quietly within her—not toward Jupiter, but toward the one figure who had never truly existed as a father in her life.

Baron Gustavo.

The man who had never raised her. The man who had left scars on her mother. The man whose life revolved around alcohol, gambling, and violence. And now, without ever apologizing or taking responsibility, he had become the greatest calamity in Venus’s life.

“Why?” Venus murmured softly. “Why did you destroy my life when you were never there for me in the first place?”

She cursed her father in silence. Cursed fate so cruel. She had thought her life had finally found its happy ending. Instead, that happiness had only paused long enough to make her believe—before being ripped away in the most painful way imaginable.

Venus felt exhausted.

The tears she had been holding back finally drained what little strength she had left. Without realizing it, she fell asleep with the wedding photograph still clutched to her chest.

Morning came far too quickly.

Venus woke with a heavy head and swollen eyes. Even though her heart felt hollow, habit guided her steps down to the kitchen. She prepared breakfast as she always did—coffee, toast, and eggs. Her hands moved automatically, as if nothing had happened the night before.

But the chair across from her was empty.

“Where’s Jupiter?” Venus asked softly one of the servants.

“The young master returned to the matriarch’s residence early this morning,” the servant replied politely.

Venus nodded slowly. She couldn’t be angry. She couldn’t feel disappointed. The decision made sense. Jupiter needed space—and she had no right to demand anything from him.

She sat alone at the dining table. Every bite tasted bland. Her thoughts circled endlessly around the sentence spoken the night before.

Sign the divorce papers.

She lowered her gaze, her fingers once again brushing over her abdomen in a gentle motion. Jupiter’s request felt increasingly real now.

And before it was too late, she wanted to do something—with Jupiter.

Perhaps… just perhaps, her husband might still reconsider.