Lahat ng Kabanata ng Divorced Before He Knew I was Pregnant: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

The lawyer’s office was colder than Aira expected. Not physically, but in the way everything inside it felt structured, measured, and unyielding. There was no room for emotion here. No space for hesitation. Just facts, rights, and decisions that could not be undone once made. Aira sat across from her attorney, her posture straight despite the quiet tension running through her. The file in front of them was already open, Lucien’s name printed clearly at the top. It made everything feel more real. “Legally, his claim is valid,” her lawyer said calmly. “If paternity is confirmed—and from what you’ve said, it will be—he has the right to be involved in the child’s life.” Aira’s fingers tightened slightly in her lap, but her expression didn’t change. “I’m not denying that,” she replied. And she wasn’t. That was the part that made this harder. Lucien wasn’t wrong. He just didn’t get to control how this happened. “I want boundaries,” she continued, her voice steady now

Morning came too quickly. Aira woke before the alarm, her eyes opening into a quiet that felt heavier than it should. For a moment, she didn’t move. She simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts already awake long before her body had caught up. The night hadn’t given her rest. Only fragments of sleep, interrupted by memories that refused to stay buried—Lucien’s voice, the way his gaze had softened when he looked at Zayn, the quiet certainty in his tone when he said next time. It lingered. Unsettling in a way she couldn’t quite explain. With a quiet breath, she pushed herself up and moved through her routine, careful, almost deliberate, as though keeping everything controlled on the outside might quiet the noise in her head. It didn’t. The apartment felt still, but not peaceful. There was a kind of anticipation in the air, like something was waiting to happen. Or perhaps she was. The knock came just as she stepped out of the kitchen. Not loud. But

Lucien didn’t sit immediately. He stood beside the table, his presence altering the balance of the space without effort. It wasn’t just that he had arrived— It was how he arrived. Uninvited. Unapologetic. Certain. Aira felt it instantly, the shift in the air tightening around her chest as her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the table. Selene watched him with a quiet awareness, her expression composed, but her gaze sharper now. “You found us quickly,” she said. Lucien’s attention flickered to her briefly. “You weren’t hiding.” It wasn’t an answer. But it was enough. He pulled out the chair beside Aira and sat down, not across, not at a distance— Beside her. The choice wasn’t accidental. Aira felt it. Selene noticed it. And Lucien didn’t explain it. For a moment, no one spoke. The silence stretched, not empty, but layered with everything that had been said before he arrived and everything that hadn’t been said yet. Then Aira broke it

The apartment felt too quiet after Adrian left. Not peaceful. Just… empty in a way Aira couldn’t ignore. She stood where he had left her for a moment longer than necessary, his words still lingering in the air, pressing against her thoughts in ways she didn’t know how to resolve. I need to know where I stand. Her chest tightened slightly. She exhaled, turning away, forcing herself to move. There were things to do. Small distractions. Anything to keep her mind from circling the same questions over and over again. It didn’t work. The silence followed her. The tension stayed. And just when she was starting to settle into it— A knock came at the door. Firm. Measured. Aira stilled. For a brief second, something in her chest shifted unexpectedly, but she pushed it down immediately as she walked toward the door. She already knew. When she opened it— Lucien stood there. Composed as always. Like he had never once questioned whether she would open the d

  The night was too quiet.    Not peaceful.    Just… heavy.    Aira stood in the kitchen long after she had finished cleaning, her hands resting against the counter, her thoughts circling the same point over and over again.    Lucien.    Selene.    The email.    The pressure building in ways she couldn’t physically see—but could feel everywhere.    It was tightening.    Slowly.    Carefully.    Like something closing in.    She exhaled, pressing her fingers briefly to her temples before straightening.    She needed to stop thinking.    Needed to focus on something real.