Two pink lines

Alina

[Pregnancy Test: Positive]

The plastic stick shook in my hand.

I stared at it until my eyes burned, hoping the result would change.

It didn’t.

Two pink lines.

My heart stopped, then started beating again so fast I thought it might jump out of my chest.

I was pregnant.

In any other marriage, this would be a moment of pure joy. I would run downstairs, jump into my husband's arms and we would cry happy tears together.

But this wasn’t a normal marriage. And Liam wasn’t a normal husband.

As I felt a sick twist in my stomach, I sat on the cold edge of the bathtub.

Liam didn’t marry me because he loved me. He married me because he had to. When my parents died saving his life, his grandmother felt she owed me a debt. Her way of paying for it was to make Liam marry the poor orphan girl.

He called it a "duty." I called it a dream come true, at least at first. I had loved him since I was a little girl. But dreams turn into nightmares when you are the only one in love.

Just then, the oak door to our bedroom clicked open.

I froze. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. It was barely 9 PM.

Liam usually stayed at the office until late, inventing work just to avoid sitting at the dinner table with me.

I quickly wrapped the test in toilet paper and buried it deep in the trash can, underneath used cotton pads and tissues. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely close the lid.

Then I stood up and looked in the mirror. My face was pale. My eyes looked frightened.

“You are Mrs. Liam Alison.” I whispered to my reflection. “Pull yourself together.”

I took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.

Liam was standing by the bed, busy taking off his watch. Even from across the room, he took my breath away.

He was tall with broad shoulders that looked powerful even under a suit. His face was sharp, handsome and cold as ice.

He looked up and his dark brown eyes locked onto mine. There was no smile. There never was.

"You are home early." I spoke first. My voice sounded small, even to my own ears.

"The meeting was canceled." He replied as he tossed his jacket onto the chair.

He didn't ask how I was. He didn't ask about my day. He never did.

He walked toward me, loosening his tie. The look in his eyes changed. It wasn't love. It was a hunger. A basic, physical need. That was the only time Liam ever really touched me.

"Liam, I..." I started to step back but my leg hit the bed and panic rose in my chest. I was pregnant. Was it safe? Should we be doing this?

“I am really tired tonight." I said again.

He didn't listen. He placed a hand on the bed beside my hip, leaning down until his face was inches from mine.

"You are always tired, Alina." He murmured. His thumb brushed my lower lip. His touch was electric, sending a shiver straight down my spine.

"Please." I whispered, though I wasn't sure what I was pleading for. For him to stop? Or for him to never let go?

"Shh." He kissed me.

It was demanding. He claimed my mouth the way he claimed everything else in his life… with absolute authority. And like always, my resistance melted away.

God, I was weak.

I loved him so much it hurt. I craved his touch, even if it was cold, even if it meant nothing to him.

I let him kiss me, I let him lead me to the bed, pretending for just a few minutes that we were a real couple.

That he actually wanted me and not just a body to warm his bed.

After the sex, he didn't hold me. He never did.

He got up almost immediately and went to the bathroom to shower.

I lay alone in the center of the huge King-sized bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin. The room felt colder now than it had before he arrived.

I closed my eyes, trying to sleep, trying to forget the pregnancy test hidden in the bathroom trash.

Then, I heard the low hum of a voice.

Liam was in the walk-in closet. I could hear the sound as the door wasn't fully closed.

He must have thought I was asleep. He was speaking on the phone, his voice hushed but clear in the quiet room.

I shouldn't listen. I knew I shouldn't. But I held my breath, straining my ears.

"Grandmother, it's late.” Liam sounded annoyed.

"Liam?" His grandmother’s voice was crackly but loud over the speaker.

There was a pause as she spoke on the other end. Then, Liam let out a frustrated sigh.

I could imagine him rubbing his temples, a habit he had when he was losing patience.

"No." Liam said firmly. "We are not trying. Stop asking me that."

I bit my lower lip hard. I knew exactly what she had asked.

Is she pregnant yet?

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" Liam’s voice grew sharper.

He was pacing now. I could see his shadow moving across the slice of light.

"You have already controlled my entire life. You forced me to marry her. You saddled me with a wife I didn't want."

The words hit me like a physical slap.

Saddled.

Like I was a heavy load. A burden. A punishment.

"She is a good girl, yes." Liam continued. "But she is your choice, not mine. I have given her a home. I have given her my name. I have done my duty." Then he laughed humorlessly. "Now you want a child? Absolutely not. I have enough on my plate dealing with a wife I have nothing in common with. Why would I want to add a child to this mess?"

Tears pricked my eyes.

"I don't want a baby, Grandmother." He stated. "I don't want a child with her. I don't want to be tied to her any more than I already am."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

He didn't want a baby.

He felt tied to me. Trapped.

I placed a hand over my flat stomach. Inside, there was a tiny life that was half him and half me. A life that I had been terrified of but deep down, already loved.

But to him? It would just be another chain. Another trap.

If I told him now... he would hate me. He would look at my stomach with disgust. He would think I did this on purpose to lock him down forever.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, forcing myself not to make a sound. I couldn't let him know I was awake. I couldn't let him know I heard the truth.

The closet door creaked.

I quickly shut my eyes, turning my head into the pillow, faking sleep.

My heart was beating against my ribs fast.

Liam walked back into the bedroom. I could feel his presence.

He stood by the bed for a moment.

I wondered if he was looking at me. I wondered if he felt any guilt at all.

"I know you are awake, Alina." He said calmly.

My eyes flew open.

He was standing there, fully dressed in a fresh tuxedo. He looked flawless. And completely indifferent.

I sat up slowly, wiping a stray tear from my cheek before he could see it.

"Where are you going?" I asked softly. "It's almost midnight."

He adjusted his cuffs, not meeting my eyes. "I have to go out. There is a charity gala for the foundation. I need to make an appearance."

I looked at him.

I managed his calendar. I organized his life.

There was no gala tonight.

He was lying. He just couldn't stand to be in this house with me any longer than necessary. He had done his "duty" in bed, and now he was escaping.

"Okay." I faked a smile. "Have a good time."

He didn't kiss me goodbye. He didn't even say goodnight. He simply turned his back on me and walked out the door.

After he shut the door closed from outside, I slid my hand down to my stomach, clutching the fabric of my nightgown.

"He doesn't want you." I whispered to the life growing inside me. "He doesn't want us."