I stared at the papers on the table. Twelve pages, twelve pages that ended two years of my life. Two years I thought were mine, two years I thought I had a chance at being happy and now…..gone.
Adrian sat across from me, calm as ever, posture perfect, tie straight, expression unreadable. The way he moved, the way he held himself it used to make me feel safe. Now it just made my chest tighten.
"Sign it," he said. His voice was flat, controlled, like he was asking for a glass of water, not telling me to end our marriage.
I picked up the pen, hands trembling. I tried to steady them, tried to tell myself I could do this. That I was strong. That I could survive this.
Get it together, Elara.
I remembered the first day we signed the contract, the naive hope I had tucked under my chest, the foolish belief that pretending could protect me. And now… that belief had betrayed me.
Two years of pretending, two years of being quiet, of smiling when he barely glanced my way, two years of holding my breath every time I saw his name light up on the phone, two years of watching him drift further away, step by step.
And now, Sophia was back.
The thought made my stomach twist. My hands shook. I tried to ignore it. Pretend it didn't matter. But it did. It mattered more than I wanted it to.
I signed the papers. My signature felt heavier than it should. Heavy like the years I had wasted, heavy like every moment I had been invisible, heavy like the realization that I had lost him before I had even had him.
He nodded once, glanced at the signature, and that was it no words, no hesitation just… smooth efficiency. Already thinking about Sophia. Already moving on. Already… gone.
I opened my mouth, ready to say something anything but my throat felt tight, like I had swallowed cement.
"Thank you for being cooperative," he said instead.
Cooperative. The word clawed at my stomach. I wanted to scream, to spit it back at him, to tell him he had no idea what he had done.
"You're welcome," I said quietly. My voice sounded brittle even to my own ears.
He walked to the door, paused with his hand on the handle. I thought, for a fleeting second, that he might say something human. Something that would make this a little less brutal but no, he opened it and left.
I sat there for a long time, staring at the empty chair across from me. So that was it. Divorce, done, clean, silent, over.
I finally moved, packed a small bag with what I could carry. I didn't touch the jewelry, the gifts, the things his mother had insisted I keep. They were meaningless now. They had never mattered.
Outside, the air was cold, biting, but it was better than the fire in my chest, the chaos in my stomach.
I walked without direction, ignoring my phone. I didn't answer when it buzzed. I just kept moving.
Then my stomach twisted sharply. I gasped and clutched it.
"Not now," I whispered. "It's just stress, just exhaustion, just nerves."
But it wasn't.
By the time I stumbled into the hospital past midnight, my hands were trembling and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode.
"I've been dizzy….nauseous," I told the nurse, trying to sound calm. "I just… I want to make sure it's nothing serious."
She smiled politely. "Of course. We'll run some tests."
I sat in the waiting area, staring blankly at the wall. My chest ached, my throat was tight, my mind kept replaying the image of Adrian across from me, so calm, so composed, so utterly indifferent.
I made the mistake of checking my phone.
Sophia.
Sophia Chen's latest post. Adrian smiling at her, his arm around her waist, happy, relaxed. Perfect. My stomach twisted, my hands shook, a part of me was numb, part of me was furious.
"Ms. Quinn?"
The doctor's voice pulled me back to reality. I followed her into the small examination room, trying to breathe normally.
The results were simple, undeniable, inescapable.
"You're pregnant," she said.
I froze.
"No," I whispered. "No. That can't be right."
The doctor shook her head. "Very clear. Six weeks along."
Six weeks.
I pressed my hands to my stomach. Six weeks ago, Adrian had come home late. He smelled faintly of alcohol. He hadn't said my name, hadn't apologized, hadn't cared. And now… this.
Divorced, pregnant, alone.
My chest tightened, my hands shook, my legs wobbled. Anger flared hot inside me.
How dare he.
How dare he move on so easily. How dare he treat our marriage like a business deal. How dare he leave me here, carrying what's his and mine.
I didn't scream. Not yet. I clenched my fists.
I swore to myself he would regret this. Every single day.
When I left the hospital, dawn was just breaking across the city. Midnight had taken him. Morning had given me a secret.
A life.
I could feel it fluttering inside me. Tiny. Fragile. Real.
I was alive.
I was angry.
I was scared.
But I wasn't broken.
I whispered to myself, almost like a prayer.
This time… I choose me.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, trembling, shaking, alive.
For the first time in years, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time: power.
The chaos inside me felt like fire, but also like wings. And I would use it. I would survive. I would protect what was mine.
Adrian would regret this. I didn't know when or how. Maybe he never would. Maybe it would take years. But I swore… he would feel it.
I started walking, letting the cold morning air bite at my skin, letting it wake me up.
I was no longer the quiet, compliant woman he thought he could control.
I was someone new, someone fierce, someone alive.
And my life, our child, would be mine.