Cryptic Pregnancy ~STELLA~ I'd have chosen death over my marriage. The last time I'd seen my husband was three months ago. He’d walked in, grabbed his already packed suitcase, and headed back outside to the waiting car. No goodbye. No explanation. Just nothing aside from the fact that days before that, he had told me he would be going on a business trip. And that was all. “It should be your honeymoon, shouldn’t it?” Rhys, his half-brother, asked, stopping before he crossed into the living room. I forced a small laugh. He was right. A honeymoon was supposed to last for months after a wedding, depending on how the couple wanted it. It was supposed to be filled with memories, laughter, and two people learning about each other, but mine was nothing like that. “Dylan just has a lot on his plate,” I let my hair fall over my cheek to hide the healed scar of Dylan's abuse. “He already booked reservations for us at a lot of fancy places.” The lie came out smoother than I intended. He
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