The night was heavy with silence, the kind that pressed against the walls like an uninvited guest.
Arabella stood by the window, her reflection dimmed by the city lights. Behind her, Cassian set down his phone. The cryptic message still lingered between them like smoke.
He walked over slowly, his voice low. "You first."
Arabella turned, her eyes searching his. She looked more fragile than she ever allowed the world to see — still in her velvet dress, heels kicked off, makeup slightly smudged, belly full and heart trembling.
"I used to think love was supposed to look like fairy tales," she began. "Pink clouds, tiaras, sparkles. So when you married me, I thought I had won."
"You didn't win anything, Bella. You were thrown into my world."
She nodded. "And I wasn't ready. I've been playing catch-up for six months. But the truth is... I didn't just marry you for love."
Cassian's gaze sharpened. "What do you mean?"
"I married you because I was scared. My parents were growing distant. My image was fading. I didn't want to disappear. You—marrying you felt like the only thing that could keep me from losing everything."
The confession hung in the air like a crack in glass.
"But then," she said, voice shaking, "I fell in love for real. With your cold silences. Your late-night coffee rituals. The way you watch me like I'm the only person in the room. I didn't expect that."
Cassian's throat moved, but no words came out.
"I'm not the girl you married anymore," she said, stepping closer. "I'm not just the Barbie in pink heels. I'm building something. I'm becoming someone. And I want to do it with you — if you'll let me."
He exhaled slowly. "My turn?"
She nodded.
"I never wanted to get married," he said. "Not because of you — because of everything else. My family destroyed love. My father treated my mother like a trophy. My uncle tried to take the company from me after he died."
"Victor," she whispered.
Cassian nodded. "I sent him away. Paid him off. But he's always watching. That message... it could be from him."
Arabella sat down, the tension too much to bear standing. "What else?"
He paused. "I thought I could control everything. Business. Emotion. Even you. But when I saw you at the gala tonight… I realized I was wrong. You're not mine to mold. You're mine to love."
She blinked back tears.
"I've been in therapy for weeks," he admitted. "Trying to understand why I push people away. Why I couldn't tell you how much I've come to need you. I didn't want to be like him."
Arabella reached out, touching his face.
"You're not," she said. "You're already more than he ever was."
Cassian sank to his knees, resting his forehead gently against her baby bump. His voice broke.
"I'm scared of being a father."
She stroked his hair. "I'm scared too."
They stayed like that, two broken hearts learning how to heal side by side.
Then Arabella whispered, "So… no more secrets?"
"No more masks," he murmured against her skin. "Not with you."
She leaned down, kissing the top of his head. "Then let's start again. As us."
The air shifted. The city outside kept moving, but inside that penthouse, a new chapter quietly began — one built on truth, trust, and the fragile, unshakable beginnings of real love.
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