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.

The next day, I had to deal with a document before I could eat breakfast. My father gently slid a thin envelope on the night table.

“It’s for you,” he said quietly then left.

My fingers felt numb. The envelope was heavy in the way only bad news could be. I opened it with care. I scanned straight to the last page—Nick had signed the divorce papers. His name scrawled across the line where our marriage ended.

I shouldn’t cry but the tears came hard and fast, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them. My chest tightened until breathing felt impossible. My hands trembled, the paper crumpling at the edges.

I pressed my fist to my mouth to keep quiet, but the sound still escaped—small, broken, humiliating. That’s when the cramps started.

Sharp, twisting pains deep in my stomach, so sudden I doubled over. Fear surged hotter than the grief. I couldn’t risk anything happening to the baby—not now, not ever.

I grabbed my bag and called a private car, giving the driver the address of my destination.

_______________________________________________

St. Clarisse Wellness Center

The clinic was one of the city’s most discreet, high-end clinics—frosted glass doors, manicured hedges, and an entrance so private it could have been a luxury hotel.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of jasmine, the lighting soft, the marble floors gleaming. Patients in tailored clothes sat with glossy magazines. I checked in under my maiden name and sank into one of the leather chairs, my hands still shaking.

Then the glass doors opened. A familiar feminine laugh was the first thing I heard—Helga. She wore a cream silk dress, her hair pulled into a sleek knot, one manicured hand confidently resting on Nick’s arm as they walked in.

And my ex-husband, immaculate in his suit, went straight to the reception desk. “She’s here for her prenatal appointment,” he said, nodding toward Helga.

The receptionist smiled and handed her a clipboard. Nick turned then, and his eyes landed on me. His stride faltered in a snap.

“Mia?” His voice cut through the soft music.

Helga turned too, her lips curving into a perfect, poisonous smile. “What a coincidence.” Her gaze swept me from head to toe, stopping at my midsection. “And what brings you here, hm?”

“Consultation,” I said evenly.

Her brows lifted, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. “For what exactly?”

I didn’t answer. Nick’s gaze shifted between us, something uncertain flickering across his face.

Helga tightened her grip on his arm. “Come on, Nick. We shouldn’t keep the doctor waiting.”

But as they walked toward the private suites, Nick glanced back. Once. Twice.

And for the first time since I saw his signature on those papers, I caught the judgment and doubt in his eyes.

I didn’t sleep that night.

The cramps were gone after the checkup, but the stress and pain inside me wouldn’t stop. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the envelope with Nick’s signature. I heard Helga’s voice. I saw my mother’s face at the dinner table, silent. Always silent.

Before sunrise, I was ready to go. I didn’t take much—just what I needed to live, not what reminded me of the life I was leaving. A suitcase for clothes. A small bag for documents. Helga stripped me of everything else she could, but she wouldn’t enter my child's life.

I didn’t say goodbye to my parents. They didn’t deserve my respect. When I stepped out, Shane was leaning against his car, arms crossed, eyes searching my face.

“You ready?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, even though my throat felt tight. He took the suitcase from me without another word and put it in the trunk.

The drive to the port was mostly silent, the hum of the engine filling the spaces where words couldn’t. Every now and then, I felt his gaze on me, like he wanted to say something but knew it would only make leaving harder.

When the coastline came into view, he finally spoke. “You don’t have to do this alone, Mia.”

“I have to.” I said, forcing a small smile.

At the port, the air was sharp with salt and sea spray. Shane carried my suitcase right to the boarding gate, refusing to leave until I was on the ramp.

I turned to him, my voice low. “Thank you. For not asking me to stay.”

His jaw tightened, but he only nodded. We hugged for a second before I climbed aboard.

The deck opened into a wide view of the city and the crowd below.

Then I saw Nick.

Shoving through bodies, scanning every face.

Phone pressed to his ear.

The screen in my hand lit up with his name. My throat tightened. Tears gathered, blurring the edges of my vision as I watched him from above. I read one message from him.

Nick: Don’t you dare leave me. We need to talk. It's about Helga…and the baby.

For a moment, I almost replied. Almost let him pull me back into the life I was finally breaking free from. But my body didn’t move.

He looked down at his phone, confusion and desperation twisting across his face. Then, as if sensing me, he looked up.

Our eyes locked.

He mouthed ‘I love you.’

My tears finally broke free like an open dam.

Then I pressed the block button and hurled the phone into the sea.

“Let's not meet each other again, Nick,” I whispered, choking into my tears as the ship began to sail away.