Aria’s POV
My feet dragged against the pavent. Each step sent fresh pain shooting up my legs. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the words still echoing in my skull.
*You haven’t even given him an heir yet, have you?*
I used the side door. The one near the kitchen. The servants’ entrance. My hands shook as I locked it behind . The keys slipped twice before I got them in.
Everything hurt. My feet. My back. My pride.
Serena’s voice wouldn’t stop. It kept playing. Over and over. Like a song stuck on repeat.
I dropped my bag on the floor. Stumbled to the kitchen sink. Gripped the edge until my knuckles went white.
A wave of nausea hit . I bent over the sink, gagging. Nothing ca up. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
When was the last ti I ate? I couldn’t rember.
I turned on the faucet. Splashed cold water on my face. It didn’t help.
My reflection stared back from the darkened window. Hollow eyes. Pale skin. Hair falling out of its bun.
Inside, the house was silent. Lilith must be at Irene’s again. My mother-in-law preferred to keep my daughter there most nights. Said she could provide "proper care" that I couldn’t.
I kicked off my shoes. My uniform reeked of bleach and sha.
Today was the day. Ovulation day. The only day of the month Finn bothered to co ho.
He’d walk in. We’d go upstairs. He’d do what needed to be done.
Then he’d leave before morning. Back to Celestia. Back to his real life.
And I’d lie there in the dark. Hoping. Praying. Begging whatever gods existed that this ti it would work.
This ti I’d give him a son.
This ti he’d love .
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out with shaking hands.
A notification from Instagram. Celestia’s latest post.
There she was. Golden hair cascading over bare shoulders. Sapphire eyes sparkling at the cara. And there—in the background—a man’s hand. Finn’s watch. The one I’d given him for our first anniversary.
The caption read: *"Dinner at La Lumière with my favorite person ❤️"*
Two hours ago.
I locked my phone. Dropped it on the counter. Stared at nothing.
The nausea hit again. Stronger. I gripped the counter.
Sothing felt wrong. Different.
No.
No, it couldn’t be.
Could it?
I ran. Literally ran to the bathroom. My feet slipped on the marble. I caught myself on the doorfra.
The pregnancy tests. Where did I put them?
I tore through the cabinet under the sink. Towels. Cleaning supplies. More of Finn’s expensive cologne that he never wore around .
There.
A box. Three tests left. I’d bought a pack of five two months ago.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I ripped open the box.
Please. Please. Please.
I couldn’t look. I set the test on the counter. Turned away. Counted.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I turned.
One line. Clear. Pink.
My heart stopped.
Then another line. Faint at first. Then darker. Darker.
Two lines.
"Oh my god." I grabbed the counter. My knees buckled. "Oh my god. Oh my god."
Two lines.
Pregnant.
I was pregnant.
"I’m pregnant!" The words ca out in a sob. A laugh. Sothing between the two.
The sound of the front door opening made freeze.
He was here.
I clutched the test to my chest and moved toward the living room. My pulse thundered in my ears.
But then I heard his voice. Low and annoyed.
"Mom, I don’t have ti for this right now."
I stopped at the corner. Hidden. I shouldn’t eavesdrop. I should just walk in. Show him. Tell him.
But sothing made stay quiet. Sothing in his tone.
"No, I already told you." Finn’s footsteps paced across the marble floor. "Celestia isn’t getting pregnant. End of discussion."
My stomach dropped.
"Because she’s human!" His voice rose, sharp with frustration. "Her body can’t handle it the way—"
He paused. Listening to whatever Irene was saying on the other end.
"She’s young. She’s delicate. I’m not risking her health for this."
"Aria’s already been through it once." His tone shifted. Casual. Dismissive. "She can handle the risks. She knows what to expect."
The test slipped from my fingers. It hit the floor with a soft click.
I’d almost died. Five years ago. Lilith’s birth. Amniotic fluid embolism. The doctors said I’d flatlined twice.
I rembered the pain. The terror. The tallic taste of blood in my mouth as they rushed to surgery.
I rembered waking up three days later. Alone. Finn hadn’t even stayed at the hospital.
And now—now I knew why he hadn’t cared.
Because my near-death experience was just a footnote. A minor inconvenience. Sothing I’d already survived once, so clearly I could do it again.
Not like Celestia. Precious, delicate, *human* Celestia who couldn’t be asked to risk anything.
"I’ll be ho tonight," Finn continued, his voice fading as he moved toward the stairs. "I’ll take care of my obligations. But don’t expect to change my mind about this."
Obligations.
That’s what I was. An obligation. A box to check. A womb to use.
The tears ca hot and fast. I pressed my fist against my mouth to muffle the sound.
All these years. All the hope. All the desperate, pathetic attempts to make him love .
And I’d been nothing but a tool. A disposable incubator who could "handle the risks" that his real love couldn’t.
Artemis howled in my mind. Not in rage. In grief.
*We have to leave,* she whispered. *We have to go.*
I bent down and picked up the test with numb fingers. Two lines. Still there. Still real.
A baby. Another child I’d carry. Another pregnancy that could kill . And Finn wouldn’t care. He’d made that crystal clear.
I stared at those two pink lines until they blurred into one.
No more.
I was done. Done hoping. Done trying. Done breaking myself into smaller and smaller pieces trying to fit into a space that was never ant for .
I walked to the kitchen on autopilot. Found a piece of paper. A pen.
My hand shook as I wrote. The words ca slow at first, then faster.
*I want a divorce.*
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