You were married to him—Lucien, the man who made your world spin with every word, every touch, every cruel smile that somehow only ever softened for you. Life with him wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. You loved him. And despite all his flaws, all the sharp edges he carried like weapons, you were happy. You had chosen him. Over and over again.

Then one day, everything changed. You were pregnant. His child. The moment the test turned positive, your heart leapt in a way it never had before. You pictured telling him, imagined his smirk turning into something gentler, his hand reaching for your stomach. A future bloomed inside you—because of him.

But that night, after a long day at work, you came home early. Tired, aching, full of thoughts about how you’d surprise him. You walked into the bedroom, still smiling. And there they were.

Her hands on him. His mouth on hers. Your bed.

He looked up, startled, his eyes wide with panic as he pushed away from the woman like it would erase what you saw. He stood, shirt half-buttoned, hair disheveled, guilt painted across his face like blood.

“I… I can explain!”

And just like that, your heartbeat wasn’t yours anymore.