The Life I‘d Been Promised

Elara

By the time I pulled up in front of my mother’s apartment building, I felt like I had lived through three different lives in two days.

That morning, I was Roman Blackwood’s wife.

I worked at his company, boasting a beautiful home, a devoted husband, and a future I thought was impenetrable.

Now, I had nothing but a cardboard box of files sitting in my backseat and twin babies growing inside me.

I turned off the engine, but for a few seconds, I couldn't move. My fingers gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

My marriage was truly over. The words still didn’t feel real, and neither did everything that came after: my mother’s expensive medication, the hospital bills, and the lifeline of money Roman sent every month.

I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back against the headrest.

What had I done?

No, I shook my head, fighting the burn of tears. What had he done? I didn’t cheat. I didn’t lie. I didn’t invite another person into our sacred vows.

Yet somehow, I was the one sitting in a freezing car, wondering how I was going to keep my mother alive.

My legs felt like lead as I hoisted the box against my chest and trudged toward the building.

Mira pulled the door open before I even had the chance to knock. Her sharp gaze immediately dropped to the cardboard box in my hands, then darted up to read my pale face.

"What happened?" she asked.

That was all it took. My throat closed entirely, choking off my air.

She stepped aside immediately, holding the door wide. "Come inside."

I walked into the familiar apartment. It smelled of stale cigarettes, bitter coffee, and safety. It smelled like home.

Mira clicked the deadbolt into place behind me while I set the box down onto the floor with a dull thud.

I turned to face her, my voice trembling. "Roman cheated on me."

For a second, my mom went completely rigid. "What?"

"Yesterday." My voice cracked, splintering into a sob. "On our anniversary."

Her expression darkened into a fierce scowl. "That bastard. Who was it?"

I stared at her, letting the bitter reality sink in. "His ex fiancé."

Her eyes widened in realization. "Thin Veena?"

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest to keep from falling apart.

Mira closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. "I’m sorry hunny."

The words felt like a blow. I looked away, staring at the floor. "He came home and lied right to my face. I heard him with her, Mom. I heard everything." My fingers dug painfully into my own arms.

Her harsh expression melted instantly. "Oh, baby."

I hated those words. The moment she offered me pity, I felt the tears cresting again. I ducked my head before she could see my face break completely. "I left him."

"Good."

I finally forced myself to meet her gaze. "But Mom, his money. He pays for your medication."

I despised myself for saying it, hating that Roman’s wealth still held chains over my life and my family's survival, but it was the undeniable truth.

Mira waved her hand dismissively. "We’ll figure it out."

"But how, Mom?"

"Elara—"

"How?" My voice rose, before I caught myself and sucked in a ragged breath. "I’m sorry."

Mira stepped closer, lifting a warm, calloused hand to cup my cheek. "You’re allowed to be angry."

"Yes, I am. Because I’m pregnant," I blurted out, my fingernails biting half-moons into my palms.

The room fell into a stunned silence. My mother blinked, completely caught off guard. "What?"

"I’m one month pregnant."

For several agonizing seconds, she just stared at me. Then, her tough exterior shattered, and her eyes brimmed with tears. "Oh, my goodness."

She pulled me hard against her chest, and I collapsed into her embrace.

This time, I truly let myself cry. My body had been holding onto too much tension, too much betrayal, and the dam finally burst.

"I was going to tell him," I whispered against her shoulder, my voice muffled. "I bought tiny baby shoes."

Mira held me tighter, rocking me slightly.

"I cooked for him. I decorated the whole house..." I choked on a sob. "I thought our babies would make things better."

She pulled away just enough to hold my face between her hands.

"Listen to me."

I met her fierce gaze.

"Your babies aren’t responsible for fixing your marriage." The absolute certainty in her words slammed into my chest. "Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly, sniffling.

"If Roman comes back tomorrow and begs on his hands and knees, you don’t make decisions because of the baby. You make them because of what YOU want."

My lower lip trembled. "But I’m scared."

"I know." Her thumb gently brushed a tear from beneath my eye. "But you’ve always been stronger than you think."

I desperately wished I could believe her.

Mira sighed, reaching into the pocket of her cardigan to pull out a cigarette.

I shot her a pointed look, and she let out a groan, shoving it back inside. "Fine."

Despite the crushing weight in my chest, a small, genuine smile tugged at my lips. "You’re pregnant. I should be setting a better example," she muttered.

"Maybe you should stop smoking entirely."

"Don’t push your luck."

A watery laugh escaped me. It was the first time I had laughed in two days.

Over the next hour, Mira went into full caretaker mode. She ran a hot, steaming bath for me, dug out one of my old, oversized t-shirts, and laid it carefully on the bed before bustling into the kitchen to heat water for tea.

She kept her hands busy, masking the overwhelming helplessness we were both drowning in. Stepping into the bath, I finally allowed myself to breathe.

The scalding water enveloped me, soaking away the chill of the day. Closing my eyes, the urge to weep returned, but I forced it down.

No. I placed a protective, soapy hand flat over my stomach. I had to be strong. For my babies, and for myself.

When I emerged, dressed in my old shirt with damp hair, Mira was standing in the kitchen. "We need groceries."

I stared at her in confusion. "Right now?"

"Yes, now. You’ve been sitting inside your own head for too long," she insisted, thrusting a hastily scribbled shopping list toward me. "Go outside. I’m sure some fresh air will help."

Nothing could help the crater in my chest, but I wordlessly grabbed my keys and headed out.

The grocery store was only a half-hour drive. I pushed a rattling cart through the aisles like a zombie, tossing in the items on Mira’s list.

Milk. Bread. Fruit.

A few bland things I thought I might actually be able to keep down. I focused entirely on the labels, desperate to keep my mind quiet.

Then, I saw them.

A man and a woman stood near the children’s section, their little boy sitting happily in the metal cart between them. The woman held up a brightly colored toy, and the boy eagerly reached for it with chubby hands.

His father chuckled, a rich, warm sound. "Not another one."

"Please, Daddy?" the boy begged, flashing a devastating, gap-toothed smile.

The man melted instantly, tossing the toy into the cart.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my hands freezing on the handle of my cart. Something vicious twisted deep inside my chest.

I didn't just see a random family; I saw a ghost of my own future.

Roman standing tall beside me. A little boy sitting between us and maybe a little girl. Roman pretending to be the strict parent, only to cave and give them the world. Me laughing at his terrible acting. Us being whole.

Being happy.

The life I had been promised.

My vision blurred violently.

No. Not here.

I spun on my heel, abandoning the half-full cart without a second thought. I didn't care if people were staring at the crazy, crying woman. I just needed to hide.