My Breaking Point

[ALESSIA'S POV]

The apartment is too quiet when I walk in.

I drop my keys on the counter. My coat drips rain onto the hardwood floor, but I don't care enough to hang it up.

The nursery door is open. I can see the crib from here, the one Edward spent three hours assembling last month. He was so proud of himself, kept making jokes about how he was "Dad of the Year" already.

I close the door.

My phone won't stop buzzing. Edward. Sandra. Unknown numbers that are probably reporters, someone always leaks these things. The billionaire's wife walks out of a coffee shop crying, and suddenly it's news.

I silence it and sit on the couch.

The baby's been kicking nonstop since I left the café. Like he can feel my anger, my heartbreak, everything.

"I know," I whisper, hand on my belly. "I know it's a lot."

The door handle rattles.

Edward's key in the lock.

I stand up as he walks in. His shirt is soaked through. He looks like he's been standing in the rain for an hour.

"You can't just walk in here anymore," I say.

"This is my home too."

"Not for long."

He closes the door behind him. "Alessia, please. Just listen to me for five minutes."

"I listened to you for three years. Listened to every promise, every lie and I'm done listening."

"It wasn't all lies." He steps closer. "What we have—what we built—that's real."

"You built it on top of Sandra."

His jaw tightens. "That's not fair."

"Fair?" I laugh, and it comes out sharp. "You want to talk about fair? Was it fair when you touched her while I was carrying your baby? Was it fair when you lied to my face every single night?"

"I never stopped loving you."

"You just stopped being faithful."

He runs both hands through his wet hair. "I was weak. I made a mistake. But it doesn't erase everything else."

"You're right. It doesn't erase anything. It just shows me who you really are."

"And who's that?"

"A man who wanted a wife from the right family. A man who couldn't stand up to his father. A man who took the easy way out the second things got hard."

Edward's face flushes red. "My father has nothing to do with this."

"Doesn't he?" I cross my arms. "Sandra said he likes her better. Said she's better for the family. You think that's a coincidence?"

"He didn't force me to—"

"But he approved, didn't he? He probably encouraged it. Told you Sandra was the smarter choice. The safer choice."

Edward doesn't answer.

That's how I know I'm right.

"Get out," I say quietly.

"This is my apartment."

"Then I'll leave."

I grab my purse and start toward the bedroom. He follows.

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere that isn't here."

"You're seven months pregnant. You can't just—"

I spin around. "Can't what, Edward? Can't leave my cheating husband? Can't protect my baby from a family that never wanted us?"

"My son belongs with me."

The words stop me cold.

"Your son," I repeat slowly. "Not our son. Your son."

"That's not what I meant."

"Yes, it is." I step closer. "You don't see him as ours. You see him as yours. As a Seaman. As something you own."

"That's insane."

"Is it? Because your father already texted me. Right after I left the café. He wants to talk. About what, Edward? About how to keep me in line? About how to make sure I don't embarrass the family?"

Edward's face goes pale. "He texted you?"

"Don't act surprised. This is what you wanted. A wife who fits. A baby who carries the name. But you can't have both anymore."

I push past him into the bedroom and grab a suitcase from the closet.

He watches me throw clothes inside. "Where will you go?"

"My mother's."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

"Alessia—"

"I'm filing for divorce tomorrow." I zip the suitcase closed. "You can have your lawyers call mine."

"You don't have a lawyer."

"Then I'll get one."

I drag the suitcase toward the door. Edward blocks my path.

"Move," I say.

"Not until you calm down."

"I am calm. I've never been calmer in my life."

"You're throwing away three years of marriage over one mistake."

"Two months isn't one mistake. Two months is a choice. And you made it every single day."

He reaches for my hand. I pull away.

"I love you," he says, and his voice breaks. "I know I don't deserve you. I know I ruined everything. But I love you, Alessia. And I love that baby."

Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

"Love isn't enough when trust is gone Edward."

"Then let me earn it back."

"You can't anymore."

I step around him and open the door.

"If you walk out that door, my father will make your life hell," Edward says behind me. "He'll take everything. The apartment, your job, your reputation. He'll make sure you have nothing."

I stop.

Turn around.

"Let him try."

Edward stares at me like he's seeing me for the first time.

"You've changed," he whispers.

"No. I just stopped pretending I needed you."

I walk out.

The hallway feels longer than it did this morning. My suitcase wheels echo against the tile.

In the elevator, I finally let myself breathe.

My phone buzzes again.

Mr. Seaman: I'm outside. We need to talk. Now.

I look at my reflection in the elevator mirror. My eyes red. Seven months pregnant and dragging a suitcase through a building I'll never come back to.

The elevator dings and the door open.

There he is standing in the lobby in a black suit, hands in his pockets, looking like he owns the building.

Because he probably does.

Mr. Robert Seaman.

Edward's father.

The man who never thought I was good enough.

He smiles when he sees me.

"Alessia. We need to have a conversation."