Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Eliora's POV 

No matter how hard I tried to think of it, to defend him from the voices in my head, it was the truth that Kian never loved me.

The picture was just a confirmation of the truth I had never wanted to acknowledge—a reminder that I was nothing to him, just a placeholder.

And I have finally accepted it.

My eyes swept over the packed suitcases waiting patiently to be carried, then back to the time… 2:40 a.m., and Kian was still nowhere to be seen.

I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the heavy ache that rested in my chest. I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them. I reached for the huge brown envelope sitting idle on my vanity.

My fingers trembled as I opened it, bringing out its content.

It was something I had gotten long ago but never had the courage to open.

Funny how when we feel at our lowest, we face the things we thought we never could.

My fingers traced *Kian* written on the divorce papers. A name that once caused butterflies to rise in my belly seemed like poison now.

I held the pen tightly, as if it could provide some kind of answer—or better still, courage.

My eyes trailed over to the wedding picture next to the papers—me smiling cheerfully at the camera and Kian standing close to me, close enough to make my heart race, but his eyes lacked warmth or anything close to happiness.

I drew in a long breath. With my hand trembling, I signed my name across the papers.

I breathed out, “There, you are free now, Kian. I won’t hold you back anymore.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

A sharp pain tugged at my stomach. I groaned, getting up from the stool. “I should have eaten something.”

Ignoring it, I pushed myself off the stool. But suddenly, I felt dizzy. I steadied myself, gripping the edge of the vanity with one hand.

My legs felt heavy and my vision blurred. “Come on, Eliora. You simply can’t be ill now.”

I reached for my phone and dialed the only active number in my contacts.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, El?” From her voice I could tell she was half-asleep.

“I have a long list of clients tomorrow morning, so I need quality beauty—”

“Can you come get me?” I said instead.

This was selfish of me, but if I stayed here another second, I might lose it.

Moreover, I didn’t want to see him. I don't think I could face him.

“Eliora, what’s wrong? Are you okay? What happened?” Zoey’s voice was laced with concern, but I couldn’t help but feel all the emotions I was trying so hard to suppress.

“Please, come get me,” I breathed out.

…..

“You still haven’t told me what happened, El,” Zoey’s voice broke the silence in the car.

I didn’t respond.

She breathed out exasperatedly. I could see the worried lines forming on her forehead.

I mean, who wouldn’t be worried when your married best friend calls you out at 3:00 a.m. to come pick her up from her husband’s house?

But still, I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

Zoey’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “I swear, El, if anyone from that household is the cause of whatever happened to you, I will sue them to court.

“I don’t care if they are the richest people in the country. Wicked people don—”

“He’s cheating on me.” I could barely hear my voice. It was the first time I had said it out loud and, to be honest, I didn’t know how to feel.

All I knew was that my heart hurt so much.

Zoey went completely silent for minutes. Her face remained unreadable, making it hard to tell what she was thinking.

“Remind me again how stupid I am for not noticing,” she finally spoke.

My lips curled up. “You aren’t stupid, Zoey.” I met her gaze for the first time that night.

I swallowed. “I’m the one who refused to tell you.” Her eyes went glossy. She had a lot to say, but she bit her lips, and I was grateful.

Silence filled the car again. The ride felt like forever, and it wasn’t helping me in any way. I closed my eyes and laid my head on the window.

“You look pale, El. Are you feeling okay?” Zoey asked, stealing glances at me and back at the road.

I shifted in my seat. “Probably carsick,” I said, ignoring the pestering headache.

Zoey sighed. “So what’s the plan? I will support you no matter what. Even if it means assassinating the enemy.” A small frown appeared on her face.

I gave her a small smile. “I would like to see my father before anything.”

And she nodded.

---

“Hi Dad. Hope you are resting well?” A smile curled at my lips. I exhaled sharply, ignoring the dull ache in my chest.

The afternoon sun hung high, merciless in its brightness, yet the wind carried a strange gentleness, tugging strands of my hair across my face. I knelt before the headstone, the grass bending around my knees, my hands trembling as they brushed against the cold marble.

My father’s name carved there felt like a wound I kept reopening.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I whispered, my voice low, swallowed by the wind. “Do I talk about the nights I sleep alone while my husband warms another woman’s bed? Or the mornings I wake up pretending everything is fine, when my chest feels hollow?”

The words cracked, but no tears came. My pain lived deeper than tears. It pressed into my ribs, sat heavy in my stomach, drained the strength from my bones.

“I wish you were here.” My fingers traced the letters on the stone, the grooves sharp against my skin. “To tell me I made the right choice… that walking away doesn’t make me weak, that leaving a man who doesn’t love me anymore won’t shame your memory.”

My voice faltered, the wind carrying it into silence. I bowed my head, the sun beating on my back as if urging me to break, but my eyes remained dry. Grief had scorched me too thoroughly to cry.

Zoey crouched beside me, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Eliora…” Her voice was soft, careful. “You don’t have to carry all of it alone. I’m right here.”

I didn’t move. The stone beneath my palm was so cold it almost stung, but it seemed to split in two, blurring out my vision.

I shook my head to chase it off, but the heaviness clung tighter.

“El, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine,” I said, standing on my feet. “I just ne—”

My body swayed. The wind roared in my ears.

“Eliora!” Zoey’s arms caught me as I fell onto the grass.

The last I saw was the sun, and even its shine seemed wicked and indifferent.

…..

The first thing I saw when my eyes fluttered open was white. White walls, white sheets, even the light felt cold and sharp against my skin. For a second, I thought maybe I was gone, maybe the sun had swallowed me whole when I fell. But then I felt a hand around mine—warm, trembling.

“Eliora,” Zoey’s voice cracked. Her eyes were red, her hair a mess, but she still managed a shaky smile. “You gave me a scare, El.”

I tried to smile back. My lips moved but my voice came out soft, almost broken. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head quickly, like sorry wasn’t enough, like it wasn’t what she needed to hear. But before either of us could say more, the door creaked open.

The doctor walked in, holding a chart. His expression was serious, but not unkind. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I muttered.

He gave a small nod, then stepped closer. “You collapsed from exhaustion, Miss. Monroe. But there’s… something else we need to talk about.”

Something in my chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

He glanced at the chart again, then at me. His tone softened, careful, like he was handling glass. “You’re pregnant.”

The word slammed into me like a fist. Pregnant. My laugh came out short, bitter. “That’s not possible.”

“We ran the tests twice,” he said gently, setting the papers down at the foot of my bed. “There’s no mistake. But…” His eyes held mine—steady. “You need to be careful. There are already signs of possible complications. If you don’t rest, if you’re not cautious, you could lose the baby.”

Zoey’s hand squeezed mine tighter, but I barely felt it. My throat closed up, my chest heaved, and for the first time in what felt like forever, tears burned their way out of me. Quiet, hot, relentless.

I hadn’t cried in so long that I almost didn’t recognize the sound of my own sobs. They weren’t loud, not dramatic. They just… broke out of me, like something rusted and locked finally gave way.

Pregnant. A child. Kian’s child.

And wasn’t it cruel? That now, when I had finally scraped together the courage to think of leaving him, to dream of breathing without his shadow choking me—now, a piece of him was growing inside me.

My tears wouldn’t stop. I didn’t even know if they were tears of joy or grief, maybe both. All I knew was that they hurt.

Zoey pressed her forehead against mine, her voice fierce but steady. “You’re not alone in this, El. Whatever you choose… every step, every decision—you’ll have me.”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to borrow her strength, but all I felt was the crushing weight of a future I hadn't expected.

I stared at the ceiling, the sterile white blurring through my tears. My lips trembled around the words I wasn’t even sure I wanted to say out loud.

“God… what am I going to do?”