I don’t remember saying I DO

Elara’s POV

“Sign the divorce papers, Elara.”

Nathan slid the document across the polished mahogany table without meeting my eyes.

“You’ve embarrassed the Wilson family enough.”

My eyes burned and my throat closed. Would he still throw me out if he knew the truth?

In five hours, the man who once swore under fairy lights and champagne to protect me forever would demand I vanish from his life.

The kitchen smelled of bleach and lemon polish. Mrs. Martha’s heels clicked across the marble like gunshots

“Why are you standing there like a useless statue? The luncheon starts in three hours and this place is still filthy.”

I gripped the mop handle. My stomach twisted hard. The ache had been growing for days, but I’d asked for ten minutes to lie down and she’d laughed.

I dragged the mop slowly. Sweat beaded on my temples. My vision blurred at the edges.

“You lazy thing! Still in one spot!?”

She crossed the room in seconds, face twisted. This was the woman who once called me her daughter.

I swallowed. “I don’t feel well, Mother.”

Her hand flew. I flinched, half-hoping—then the crack snapped my head sideways. The sting bloomed fast.

She leaned in close. Her perfume choking me.

“Don’t call me that. You’ve forgotten your place, you dirty orphan.”

I pressed a hand to my cheek as bile rose.

“My son made you worthy of standing in this kitchen,” she hissed. “And you’ve given him nothing in three years.”

Tears stung as memories flashed: her wide smiles three years ago when she told me I was Nathan’s lost bride. She’d held me like family until I signed those papers she placed in front of me, and overnight she turned cold

A sharp pain stabbed low in my abdomen. Every breath deepened the pain. Nausea surged up my throat.

I gagged, hand to my mouth.

She scoffed. “If you think I’m falling for your tricks—” She shoved me.

My knees buckled. The room tilted, the marble floor rushing up to meet me.

A sickening thud echoed and black. spots swallowed everything.

I woke to the sharp smell of bleach and a stinging behind my eyes. White lights burned as I blinked slowly, taking in my surroundings.

“Where…?” I whispered.

A nurse pressed my shoulders down gently. “Don’t move too fast. The doctor’s coming.”

The nurse slipped out before I could ask anything.

The chair beside the bed was empty. Nathan hadn’t come. Or maybe she hadn’t told him.

The door opened and Mrs Martha walked in. Something in my chest tightened. I pressed back into the pillow.

The anger on her face more visible than any worry as she leaned in.

“If you tell Nathan I slapped you, I will destroy everything you have left with my son. He’ll throw you out into the rain. Understand?”

She drew back. Her lipstick matching the fire in her eyes.

I avoided her gaze just before her phone rang and she walked out without sparing a glance.

A flutter moved low in my belly. Relief? Hope?

Nathan was coming. He’d been away for weeks, but every time he came home, she behaved. He didn’t mind her worship.

I missed him terribly and wished I wasn’t here, in a hospital gown.

The door opened again and this time, a doctor entered, tablet in hand, his face blank. A nurse stayed by my bed, adjusting my drip quietly.

The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

“Mrs. Wilson,” he said finally, voice measured. “How long have you been experiencing the pain?”

My lips parted. Brows furrowed.

He glanced up then, his eyes seeming to confirm something.

“The fainting. The abdominal pressure. The fatigue.” He listed and my fingers twitched.

Three years I have being told I was just dramatic. Weak and useless.

“Three years,” I whispered. The doctor exhaled slowly, like a man who had already reached the end of a difficult conversation in his head.

“I see.” The room felt smaller and colder as he set the file down, giving me his full attention.

“We ran imaging.” He reported.

My pulse began to climb.

“There’s a mass,” The word landed softly but the impact hit me between the ribs, strong enough that all I could do was blink.

“A… mass?” I questioned, my voice hoarse.

“A tumor,” he corrected gently. “Aggressive in growth. It’s developed alongside multiple fibroids.”

A ring echoed in my ears, the word “Aggressive” pounding in my mind distorting everything thing else.

My hand moved slow and uncertain hovering over my abdomen. How have I been so ignorant?

“Wouldn’t I have known?” I murmured but the doctor didn’t answer immediately and that sent my blood into a spike.

Sweat beaded my forehead as something cold pressed into my spine.

“They’ve likely been masking each other,” he said at last. “It happens.”

Happens.

Like any of this was ordinary. As if my body haven’t been quietly betraying me for years.

My dry throat tightened. A resolve blooming in my chest.

“So… remove it,” I said quickly. “You can remove it, right?” Voice steadier.

When his gaze softened, something in my chest coiled and tightened. All of a sudden, I didn’t want to know.

“It’s not that simple.”

My fingers curled into the sheets. Our eyes locked, the question danced in mine and for a second, his gaze dropped slightly to my abdomen.

Everything inside of me went still.

“You’re pregnant.”

My hand pressed against my stomach, harder this time.

“No…” I breathed. “No, that’s—”

But my voice broke before the denial could fully form.

The doctor stepped closer, softer now.

“The tumor is positioned in a way that complicates immediate intervention,” he said carefully. “Operating now would terminate the pregnancy.”

Terminate?

My stomach twisted violently.

“And if… if I don’t?” I whispered but he still held my gaze.

“If you carry to term… the tumor will continue to grow.”

The silence stretched into something heavy and suffocating. Pain blossomed behind my eyes, fighting to keep the tears in.

“There’s a high risk,” he continued quietly, “that we could lose both.”

I frowned but only for a second as it clicked.

That was the moment my resolve broke. Tears poured down my face, lungs heavy as I tried to breathe.

Nathan had always wanted a little boy. Why did it have to come at a cost of my life?

The doctor and nurse left me a few minutes later and my shoulders had slumped with sadness and exhaustion.

Nathan should have been here, holding me through this. We should be taking the decision as a family. As one.

Tears rolled down my eyes, the burden becoming too hard to bear when whispers filtered the air.

My eyes caught two nurses from the crack of my half closed door, standing in front of my room.

At first, I ignored their hurried whispers until a name caught my full attention.

“Didn’t you hear? Nate Wilson’s on his way.”

My attention spiked. He was coming here?

“Yeah—with his wife, apparently. Some charity case.”

My brows furrowed. I was his wife.

“He doesn’t have a wife. Probably just another poor orphan girl he’s helping. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

My mouth hung open. Shock rippled through me.

What did they know?

My palms turned to fist and my nostrils flared.

I wanted to call them in right now and tell them that I was his wife and not some charity case for a poor orphaned girl.

The nurses suddenly hurried off and the door swung open. One look at those stormy eyes and my fisted palms uncurled.

Tears danced in my eyes at the reality before me.

For two months, Nathan has been away on business. I widened my arms to embrace him but he crossed the room in three strides and cupped my face instead.

A sudden jab hit me in the chest but I ignored it as he wiped the stray tear from my eyes with his thumb.

For a second he looked so familiar, the Nathan who used to carry me to bed, throw the covers over me and promise to protect me forever.

His chin had stubble, his eyes filled with worry.

“El, are you hurt?” He asked. I opened my mouth to speak when his face turned serious.

“Why would you overwork yourself to this extent?”

“What?” I blinked, confused.

“I told him what the doctor said. You fell due to exhaustion,” Then she looked at Nathan, her eyes glossy “ I only left her for a moment.” Mrs. Martha’s hand had landed on his shoulder, her face sullen with false worry.

My heart skipped a beat then fury curled in my stomach.

Mrs Martha’s eyes were fixed on mine with a single cold warning.

Don’t.

Hell no. I was done protecting him from her. If I was going to be a mother, I had to fight for us.

My back straightened despite the pain shooting through me.

“Nathan—“ I paused, holding his attention.

“There’s something you need to know about your mother. She—”

The door opened abruptly, a lady with worry etched on her face stepped in, in a rush before her face melted into that same sweet smile from three years ago.

“Nathan, I was so worried! I came straight after your text.” She breathed out, her hand reaching out for Nathan.

Something cold and tight coiled in my chest.

Mrs. Martha’s arms spread wide. “Vanessa, so glad you could make it.” hugging her in the way only a mother would.

The cold in my chest spread lower, twisting into something ugly just before my chest caved.

Nathan had pulled away from my grip and stepped toward her. She wrapped her arms around him.

“The luncheon’s started,” Vanessa said softly, smoothing his collar. “If we leave now, we’ll make it. The press are heading to the house for your campaign announcement…”

“Announcement?” I repeated, eyes wide, brows raised.

“And our engagement,” she smiled coyly the minute we locked eyes, intertwining her fingers with his left hand.

My gaze dropped.

“Nate… where’s your wedding ring?”