CHAPTER FIVE

Babies were never part of the plan.

Not now. Not when there are only nine months left before the marriage contract between Derek and me expires. Nine months, ironic how it the same amount of time it takes to grow a life inside me is exactly how much time remains before mine changes forever.

How do I even tell him?

I sit there in the restroom, my fingers clenched and staring at the mirror 

My phone vibrates, snapping me back to reality. Derek.

“Where are you?” His voice is clip “The meeting’s about to start, and you’re missing"

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I manage, forcing my voice steady. “I’ll be there in a moment"

I hang up, toss the used tests deep into the trash, and take a deep breath. Then I fix my lipstick, straighten my blouse, and walk out like my world didn’t just shatter inside that restroom.

I make up my mind right there, go to the hospital after work. I can tell him I’m visiting Mom for her checkups i’m not ready to tell him yet about the baby until i confirm and lying is easier than explaining the truth.

By the time I reach the conference room, Derek is in full work mode, his tone sharp, his posture commanding. The man I married and the man I work for are two different people, one wears warmth like an occasional gift, the other wears control like armor.

“That’s the end of this meeting,” he says, closing his folder. “Send in the documents that need signing, and we’ll begin delivery as agreed.”

“Alright then. Thank you, sir. We’ll take our leave now,” Mr. Anthony from Rex responds, shaking his hand.

I step in quietly to clear the leftover files, my movements automatic. My brain feels foggy, running two realities at once, the professional calmness of my role and the chaos screaming beneath my skin.

The day drags on like an endless reel. I smile when I have to, answer calls, type reports. Every few minutes, my hand instinctively moves to my stomach. A baby. Our baby.

When closing time finally comes, I tidy up my desk and walk to Derek’s office to let him know I’m leaving. His chair is empty and his jacket is gone. He must’ve stepped out for a call.

I sigh, write a quick note “Heading out for Mom’s check-up. Dinner’s in the fridge.” and leave it on his desk. But just as I turn to go, his phone buzzes.

It’s not the usual ringtone. This one is soft, romantic. Curious, I glance instinctively toward the screen.

And then I freeze.

The name flashes clearly:

“Anastasia”

Three red hearts.

The air rushes out of my lungs. My chest tightens as my mind pieces together the fragments, 

The envelope from this morning. “From love, Annastasia. Reply me soonest.”

I don’t stay long enough to think, I just grab my bag and rush out, my heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. By the time I reach the parking lot, mg focus is getting to the hospital

At the hospital, the doctor confirms it. Six weeks pregnant. Healthy heartbeat and estimated due date? In eight months.

The sound of that tiny rhythm through the monitor makes my throat tighten. It’s real. There’s a life inside me. My tears come quietly, half fear, half awe.

But then my phone buzzes with a text from Derek.

“Come home. It’s an emergency.”

My heart plummets.

The drive home feels like eternity. My mind keeps running through possibilities, maybe something happened to Mom or maybe he found out somehow. But as soon as I step through the door, I find something shocking

Laughter. A woman’s laughter, soft and seductive, echoing through the living room.

I freeze in the doorway.

There, sitting comfortably on the couch, is a woman I’ve never seen before, her hair glossy black, dress barely covering her thighs, legs crossed neatly as she swirls a glass of wine. Beside her, Derek sits with that familiar half-smile that I only see when we are in public settings

Two wine glasses.

And in the corner is a child. A boy, maybe four years old, playing quietly with a toy car.

My heart stumbles.

As if sensing me, Derek looks up. His face doesn’t flicker with guilt or surprise. Instead, he says calmly, almost casually, “Meet Anastasia. She’ll be living with us now, henceforth.”

My throat dries. “Why does she need to stay here?”

His jaw tightens. “Because I’d like to know my son and build a relationship with him. To make up for the four years of his life I missed.”

The room tilts.

His son.

 No explanation whatsoever, no talking about it like normal couples should, just making decisions like the devil he is and right there I realize he never changed 

The words echo in my head, sharp and cold. My gaze drifts from the boy to the woman, then back to Derek, searching for any sign that this is some twisted misunderstanding. But there isn’t.

Anastasia smirks faintly and raises her glass. “Nice to finally meet you, Annabella. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Her voice drips with sweetness. Poisoned sweetness.

I don’t answer, I turn and walk upstairs, numbness swallowing me whole.

That night, I don’t sleep. Every creak of the house sounds louder, every thought heavier.

The next day, when I return home from work, the silence feels different, too quiet. Then I hear it. Soft, muffled sounds coming from the kitchen.

At first, I think it’s just conversation. But as I get closer, the sound shifts, low moans, breathy and unmistakable.

My steps falter.

And there they are.

Derek. My husband. The man I’ve shared a bed, a life, a contract with.

Pressed against the counter, kissing Anastasia like the world outside doesn’t exist.

A sob tears out of me before I can stop it. Loud,

They both freeze. Derek spins around, shock flickering across his face for half a second before guilt sets in. But it’s too late. The image is burned into me.

Without a word, I run. Out of the kitchen, out of the house and out into the cold night.

I don’t remember how long I run or where I go. All I know is that my chest feels like it’s collapsing

For the next week, Derek calls nonstop. Messages, voicemails, pleas, But every time my phone lights up with his name, I ignore it. There’s nothing left to say.

The marriage was supposed to last four years, atleast that was the deal, but life had twisted it into something cruel and complicated.

So I make my choice.

I file for divorce. No fight, nor scene. I sign the papers quietly, forfeiting the remaining ten million meant for the last year of our contract.

I don’t want his money. I just want out.

As I leave the lawyer’s office, the reality hits me. I’m alone now,pregnant, heartbroken, and terrified