Nick’s eyes darted from my father to me, then to Helga standing just inside the doorway with her hand still pressed to her cheek like it was a delicate porcelain cup. “I came to talk to my wife,” he said, his gaze finally locking on mine. “Mia, please—we can’t end this without setting everything in private.”

"We have nothing to talk about. Leave. Now." I said, freezing him on the spot.

Helga made a wounded noise, almost a whimper. “She’s… she’s angry, Nick. She hit me! Here, look at my face.”

I turned to my parents, my voice sharp. “She's lying! I didn’t even lay a finger on her."

Nick’s brow furrowed. “Since when did you become violent, Mia? Apologize to—”

“Don’t you dare,” I cut in sternly. “Don’t you stand there and pretend you don’t know exactly what she’s doing.”

My mother glanced between us, confusion giving way to suspicion. “What is she talking about?”

Helga sniffled, stepping closer to Nick. “She thinks I… that we—” She faltered, lowering her head like she couldn’t even bring herself to say it.

I laughed bitterly. “You can’t even say it out loud? Afraid the truth will burn your tongue?”

Nick’s eyes flashed irritation. “Mia, this isn’t helping. You’ve been gone for two months, and now you come back and—”

I held up my hand. “Stop talking like I abandoned you. I left for work. My career. The same one you claimed to support—right up until you found someone to fill in the bay.”

I glared at Helga, but the bitch didn't budge. The air in the hallway thickened. My father shifted his stance, clearly fighting the urge to intervene while my mother’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Helga stepped into the silence like she owned it. “You’re twisting everything. I was here for him when you weren’t. I was—”

“You were in my house,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “In my bed. With my husband.”

Nick inhaled sharply. “Enough!” His voice boomed, the sudden volume making even Helga flinch. “This is between us, Mia. Don't involve them in our problem.”

I squared my shoulders. “You made it their business when you brought my whore sister into it.”

Helga shifted, her gaze flicking toward my parents as if weighing how much more she could milk the moment. And then—she tilted her head, feigning hurt. “You don’t understand, Mia… I love him.”

My father swore under his breath. My mother’s hand went to her mouth.

Nick rubbed his temples, muttering, “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.”

Something cold settled in my stomach. “How you wanted this to happen?” I asked slowly, biting back the bile rising in my throat.

He hesitated, and in that hesitation, the answer was clear. He wasn’t surprised she’d said it.

“You’ve been planning this,” I said, my voice quiet but laced with venom. “Both of you.”

Helga stepped closer to him, her shoulder brushing his. “We didn’t plan to hurt you. But… your absence brought us together. He's a cold-blooded man with needs... And we just found each other's affection like the very air that we breathe.”

I stared at them, the urge to scream clawing at my throat, but I swallowed it down. They wanted the spectacle. I wouldn’t give it to them. I picked up my bag and the box from my room, brushing past Nick toward the door. “You can have each other,” I said without looking back. “But you’ll never have me in your lives again.”

“You don't have to. Come on, Mia, stop! —” Nick started, but I headed to the porch.

Outside, the cool air hit my face like a slap I didn’t mind. I made it halfway to the gate before my mother called my name. I turned, expecting her to plead with me to stay, to talk it out. But she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring at Nick, her eyes wide.

“Nick,” she said, her tone sharp, “where’s your wedding ring?”

Nick froze. His gaze flicked to Helga. And Helga—smiling faintly—slid her hand into her pocket and pulled something out. A gold band. Mine.

She rolled it between her fingers before letting it drop into her palm. “I found this under the bed yesterday," she said sweetly. “I thought Mia might want it back.”

My stomach heaved painfully. This only meant one thing—they’d been doing it in my parents’ house, too.

If the confrontation had been a fire, my mother’s collapse was the smoke that lingered long after. She didn’t faint—she just… sat down too fast, her skin suddenly pale, one hand clutching the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping her tethered.

The fight drained out of me instantly. I should have left. Everything in me wanted to. But I couldn’t walk out on her, not like this. Not every time I left a room, she followed me with her eyes like she was afraid I’d vanish. So I stayed.

“How are you feeling, Mom?” I crouched in front of her, scanning her face. Her breath was shallow, uneven.

“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice wavered. “Just… a little dizzy.”

My father shot a look at Nick, and for once, my soon-to-be ex-husband had the decency to lower his eyes. Helga mumbled something about calling an ambulance, but my mother insisted on not calling for an ambulance. The doctor came by that evening. “Stress,” he said simply, after checking her vitals. “She needs rest, and no more shouting matches.” His eyes flicked over the four of us, landing on me a beat too long, as if to say you know who I mean.

Helga didn’t sleep in my old room, thank God. But she was still here—in the kitchen in the mornings, on the porch in the evenings, her voice floating down the hall whenever Nick came by. She played the part of the helpful daughter, making tea for my mother, peeling fruit, washing dishes. I knew it was all for show, but my parents didn’t send her away.

My pregnancy made everything more complicated. I was barely two months along, but my body already felt different—tired more easily, sick some mornings. I told no one. Not my parents, not Shane, and definitely not Nick. This was mine to protect, and I wasn’t letting either of them taint it.

Shane came by the second night. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to see him until I opened the door and there he was—his familiar, steady gaze softening when he saw my face.

“Hey, Mia,” he said, greeting me with an affectionate smile.

I fell into his arms before I could think.

“Breathe,” he murmured, holding me like he’d done a hundred times before—after exams, after breakups, after my father’s heart scare in my third year of college. He was my constant, my proof that not everyone left when things got hard.

We talked in my room, the door closed against the rest of the house. I didn’t tell him everything—just enough for him to understand that Nick and Helga were still in the picture, circling like vultures.

“Why stay?” he asked gently.

“My mom,” I said simply. “She’s not well. I can’t leave her right now.”

He nodded, not pushing, but his eyes said he wanted to drag me out of here himself.

“He didn’t sign the papers?” he asked, handing me a slice of blueberry pie.

“Not yet.” I shook my head and sighed.

We talked for another thirty minutes before he decided to go home. At midnight, I was startled by the low moans and groans coming from the room beside mine. Then I heard Nick’s voice. Low. Close. And Helga’s sultry laugh—light and practiced—followed.

I stayed up, talking quietly to myself, saying sorry to my baby while crying my heart out. After a while, the engine roared to life. I heard the front door shut and Nick’s car pulled away. Still, the silence didn’t bring peace because I knew Nick wasn’t gone for good.

He was still torn—between me, his wife, and Helga, the woman who’d wedged herself into every corner of my life. And as much as I hated it, that meant he’d keep coming back.

Days blurred into weeks.

I felt like I was living in a pit of hell whenever Helga was around. Lurking like a flirty devil as if she truly belonged here. As if she was the legal daughter and I was the nuisance.

That afternoon, my gut told me something was wrong the moment I stepped into my room. The curtains were drawn just enough to let in a narrow slash of sunlight. My bag wasn’t where I’d left it, and the drawer where I kept my toiletries hung open like a gaping wound.

Helga had been here. I didn’t need proof, because her perfume—sweet and sharp, like flowers that had been forced to diffuse in every corner of the room. I sifted through my things, pulse thudding in my ears.

Clothes were rumpled. Books out of order. And there, lying neatly atop my folded cardigan, was the empty box from my pregnancy test. The kit was gone! A cold weight settled in my stomach especially when I noticed the copy of my sonogram strewn on the carpeted floor. The bitch knew my little secret and I hated her more.

I bolted out of the room and found her lounging in the sunroom balcony, drinking her avocado smoothie. “Helga,” I called and she slowly turned to me.

“Yes, sister?”

“Give it back,” I said in seethed breath.

Her arms crossed as she replied, “No, Mia. Finders, keepers.”

“If anyone knows about my—”

“Don’t fret, Nick won't find out your baby is his.” She said before walking out.

Later that evening, Mom requested us to have dinner together. Said we have to bond as a knit-tight family. And when she said family—Nick should not be left behind.

My parents sat stiffly at the head of the table, my mother pale but determined to keep her seat. Nick sat across from me, scrolling on his phone, and Helga had a smirk tucked behind her polite smile.

We ate in silence but the food was bland. I couldn’t appreciate it no matter how hard I tried. Every movement, every sound was like a slow execution to death.

Halfway through the meal, my mother set her fork down and started a topic. “I’m glad you made it tonight, Nick,” she softly said, casting a warm smile.

“Well, Helga convinced me to come over. Said she’s telling something urgent and important,” Nick explained before glancing at Helga.

She met his eyes and yelped. “Of course. I have some good news!” She let out a soft, demure laugh that almost made my eyes roll.

“Tell us,” my father urged in a flat tone.

“I’m pregnant,” Helga bluntly said, putting the test kit on the table, as her gaze slid to mine. “Nick and I—well, it happened sooner than we thought.”

My mother’s fork clattered to her plate. My father stared at Helga like she’d sprouted horns. I felt like it shrunk into a small box as I looked at the smeared lipstick on a particular part of the kit.

I took the test in the airport's bathroom back then. I was too excited and nervous that I bit it's corner while looking at myself in the mirror. I was rattled. Now I know why she stole my kit!

But Helga wasn’t finished. She tilted her head, feigning concern. “Of course… pregnancies is such a tricky thing. You never really know who the father is until you check.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Isn’t it, Mia?”

A flush of heat shot up my neck. Nick’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t defend me.

Helga leaned closer to him, her voice soft but carrying venom. “I think it’s time you signed those divorce papers, Nick. For everyone’s sake. Especially… for the kids.”

Plural. She’d done it on purpose. And then Nick nodded and said, “You’re right. Let’s not prolong the agony and settle this once and for all.”

“Good. Then we can all move forward now. What do you say, Mia?”

I didn't answer. And when Nick finally looked at me, his eyes were empty. Not even empathy nor pity remained.