Everything was perfect. The candles were flickering gently on the dinner table, casting a warm glow over the room. A bottle of Rozen's favorite wine sat on ice, and a soft tune hummed in the background. But all that mattered was the small box hidden in my purse—the pregnancy test I’d been waiting for months to show him. Finally, after three long years of trying, I was pregnant. And tonight, on his birthday, I was going to surprise him with the news that would change our lives.

Except… Rozen wasn’t home.

I checked the time—two hours late. I had called him twice, left a message, and still nothing. Normally, I would brush it off, convincing myself he was caught up in mafia business. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear into meetings, but tonight was different. Tonight was supposed to be special.

I sighed, trying to shake off the growing anxiety in my chest. To distract myself, I opened Instagram and began mindlessly scrolling through the posts, pretending everything was fine.

That’s when I saw it.

Thalia. Her face filled my screen, smiling that self-satisfied grin I’d always hated. She was standing with her hand placed tenderly on her stomach, her caption loud and proud: "Grateful to my baby’s father. Couldn’t have done it without you!"

My heart stopped. Baby’s father?

I sat up straighter, eyes locked on the photo. I zoomed in, inspecting every detail. Thalia, glowing with pride, looked radiant in her maternity dress. Her other hand held the hand of a man… a man whose hand looked all too familiar.

It was Rozen’s. I knew that hand like the back of my own—his distinct scar across the knuckle from a knife fight years ago was unmistakable. I felt my stomach twist into a painful knot. He hadn’t been mentioned directly in the post, but I didn’t need his name to be spelled out for me. The hand in the photo confirmed everything. Rozen had done it. He had helped Thalia, his ex-girlfriend, get pregnant. Who knows if it’s just a sperm donation or they had sex?

My breath quickened, and a dull ringing filled my ears as I clicked on the comment box under Thalia’s post. My heart felt like it was splitting in two, and the pain of it made me reckless. Without thinking, I typed: "Wow! Good for you!"

I bit my lip, forcing myself to breathe slowly, but it was no use. The walls of the dining room seemed to close in on me, and the candles—once beautiful and warm—now cast eerie, flickering shadows that made me feel even more trapped.

Without thinking, I redialed Rozen’s number. The ringing echoed in my ears—once, twice. Each second dragged on like an eternity, my anger bubbling beneath the surface, ready to spill over.

On the third ring, he finally picked up.

“Chloe,” Rozen muttered, his voice sharp with frustration. “I’m in the middle of something—"

“When are you coming home?” I cut him off, my words trembling as I tried to keep my voice steady.

There was a pause, but just before he responded, I heard something—a faint voice, a woman's voice, murmuring something in the background. My heart stuttered.

“I’ll be home soon. We’ll talk then,” he said quickly. And then, without warning, the line went dead. He’d hung up on me.

I glanced at the dinner table, the untouched meal, the wine slowly warming in the ice bucket, and the candles burning lower than ever. The entire night felt like a mockery of the life I thought we were building.

Frustration bubbled up inside me, and before I knew it, I was moving, grabbing the nearest candle off the table and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall, the wax splattering against the paint as the flame flickered out. But it wasn’t enough. I grabbed another, then another, hurling them without care.

Suddenly, a flicker of flame caught on the tablecloth, the fire spreading faster than I could react. I froze, watching in horror as the fabric ignited, the flames licking at the edge of the table. Panic surged through me, and I stumbled backward, grabbing a pitcher of water from the counter and dousing the flames. The fire hissed and sputtered, smoke curling up toward the ceiling, the acrid smell filling the room.

My heart pounded in my chest as I stood there, panting, the smoke making my eyes water.

A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, and I winced, clutching my stomach. The stress, the anger… it was all too much. My little surprise—our baby—was still inside me, waiting for the moment I had been so desperate to share. But now? How could I possibly bring this child into a world where its father couldn’t even be honest with me?

The next morning, I woke up alone. The candles from the night before had long melted down to stubs, and the wine sat untouched on the table, its once festive presence now a cruel reminder of how the evening had turned out. My heart sank as I looked around the dining room, taking in the aftermath of my failed celebration.

Rozen never came home.

I reached for my phone, hoping to see a message from him—an explanation, something—but there was nothing. He hadn’t even bothered to call, didn’t know, or maybe didn’t care, that our house had nearly gone up in flames because of my frustrations at him. I had caught it just in time, but the scorch marks on the tablecloth remained just like the scars this night had left on my heart.

Rozen hadn’t just chosen to stay away; he’d chosen to be with her—Thalia. Ever since she reappeared in our lives, flaunting her presence, I had felt the shift between us. Rozen had become distant, distracted, always finding excuses to be out of the house. I thought we were trying for a baby together, but now I realized he had been giving a part of himself to her.

This was my breaking point.

I couldn’t bring a child into this, into a life filled with lies and neglect. I felt utterly trapped, and the thought of carrying his child, knowing that he was elsewhere—possibly helping Thalia bring a baby into the world—made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.

Without thinking, I made my decision.

I called the hospital and booked an appointment. The idea of ending the pregnancy weighed heavily on me, but I had to free myself from this pain. I couldn’t carry this child knowing Rozen didn’t truly care about us—about me. It was too much to bear.

I arrived at the hospital later that morning, my mind clouded with anger and grief. As I walked through the doors, every step felt like a betrayal to myself, but I couldn’t stop. The world blurred around me, the sterile smell of disinfectant assaulting my senses. All I wanted was to end this chapter of my life.

But then, as I rounded the corner toward the reception desk, I froze. There they were—Rozen and Thalia, standing together, too close for comfort. They hadn’t seen me yet, but the sight of them was enough to send a rush of nausea through me. Thalia was glowing, her hands protectively cradling her stomach. Rozen stood beside her, looking… calm. Supportive. Like her husband, not mine.

I couldn’t breathe. My heart pounded in my chest as I took in the scene before me, the two of them standing there, at the hospital, like they were starting a family together. Was this why he didn’t come home? Was he here for her, for their baby?

My feet moved before my brain could catch up. I stormed over, the blood roaring in my ears.

“Chloe?” Rozen’s voice was sharp, startled when he saw me. But instead of guilt or surprise, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

I could barely form words. My vision blurred with tears, and all I could do was stare at them, my heart cracking in half. “What am I doing here?” I repeated, my voice shaking with disbelief. “What are you doing here? With her?”

Thalia’s smug smile infuriated me. Rozen stepped forward, lowering his voice like he was trying to keep a secret. “Chloe, don’t make a scene. You’re stalking us, aren’t you?”

The accusation hit me like a slap. Stalking? Was that what he thought of me? His wife? The mother of his supposed unborn child?

Fury exploded in my chest. Before I knew it, my hand shot up, and I slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed through the sterile hospital corridor, and for a moment, everything stopped.

Rozen glared at me, his cheek still flushed red from the slap I’d delivered. His jaw tightened, and I could feel the tension rolling off him, but I didn’t care. Not anymore.

“What the hell, Chloe?” he snapped, his voice low and brimming with anger.

I didn’t flinch. My heart was racing, but I stood firm, refusing to let him turn this around on me. “You really don’t get it, do you?” My voice shook with raw emotion as I forced myself to say the words that had been tearing at me. “You donated sperm to Thalia. Without telling me. Do you know how humiliating it was to find out like that? You gave her what we’ve been trying to have for years.”

He stared at me, still shocked by the slap, but the cold indifference in his eyes made my blood boil. “It wasn’t a big deal, Chloe. It was a favor. That’s all.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “A favor?” My voice cracked as I repeated the word, bitterness laced in every syllable. “You gave her a child, Rozen. You let her have the one thing I’ve been aching for. Do you know how that feels? How much it tears me apart?”

Rozen sighed, clearly growing more irritated by the second. “You’re overreacting. It’s not like we’re raising the baby together. Thalia wanted a child, and I helped. That’s it.”

I could feel my chest tightening, anger and hurt twisting together. How could he stand there and act like this was nothing? “You didn’t think it mattered? That maybe, just maybe, I’d want to know about this? That it might hurt me to know you gave her something we’ve fought so hard for? Is it even a sperm donation or did you have sex with her?”

“Chloe, are you insane?” He shook his head dismissively. “It was just a sperm donation and it had nothing to do with us, Chloe. It was separate.”

“Separate?” I took a step toward him, my voice rising. “How can you say that when she’s carrying your child? How am I supposed to live with the fact that you gave her a piece of yourself that should’ve been ours?”

Rozen met my gaze, unflinching. “It doesn’t change anything between us.”

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “It changes everything. You don’t care, do you? Not about how this hurts me. Not about us.” I could see it in his face, that cold, distant look he always gave me when things got tough. He was shutting down, just like always.

The realization hit me like a wave, crashing down and taking my breath with it. Rozen would never understand. He would never feel the depth of this betrayal the way I did. “I can’t do this anymore,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t see where your priorities are.”

Rozen’s expression didn’t change. “Where are you going with this, Chloe?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the tears burning at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I’m saying I’m done. I’m done fighting for something you’ve already given away.”

He scoffed. “You’re not making any sense. What do you want me to do? Apologize for helping someone who needed it?”

“I want you to care about what this is doing to us. But you don’t,” I said quietly, my heart heavy with the truth. “You never did.”

I could see him getting more frustrated, but I didn’t care anymore. I was exhausted—exhausted from trying, from fighting for a relationship that was crumbling beneath me.

“I’m leaving,” I said, stepping back, turning away from him before I could change my mind.

I didn’t wait for him to respond. I didn’t need to hear more excuses or justifications. The conversation had only made one thing clear—there was nothing left for me in this relationship. I wasn’t going to let this child be a part of Rozen’s world—a world where I didn’t matter.

By the time I walked into the clinic, my resolve had hardened. It wasn’t an easy decision. I couldn’t keep clinging to the hope that things would change, that Rozen would suddenly become the man I needed him to be. I had to let go.

As I sat in the waiting room, my hands gripped the arms of the chair tightly. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound, but my mind was loud, spinning with thoughts I couldn’t quiet. When they called my name, I stood up, my legs steady, my mind clear. I knew what I had to do.

This was the end of one chapter. And maybe, just maybe, the start of something better.