ELORA "You're pregnant." I looked from Dr Evans's moving mouth down to the floor. I'd been sitting here for ten minutes, listening to his droning voice, but it was now that my brain was almost refusing to translate those three syllables I'd just heard. "I'm sorry, what?" He watched me closely. Probably my face was not giving him a readable reaction to work with. Was he supposed to congratulate me or offer me a box of tissues? He chose to repeat the same words to me. "You're pregnant, Elora." He handed me the piece of paper, and I looked past all the medical jargon to focus on that one word. Positive. I had come to pick up my test results for my routine checkup. Not this. I suddenly felt a phantom pressure settling behind my navel. I couldn't believe I actually had a baby inside me right now. Even though I shouldn't be so shocked, since I knew exactly how it got there. This was supposed to be the moment I burst into joyful tears. Then I'd rush home to my husband and break the news. He would freeze for a second or two before exploding into immense joy, sweeping me off the floor to twirl me around, before suddenly remembering to be careful not to hurt me and our baby. But my marriage didn't come with that kind of luxury. Cedric and I married five months earlier, but not for love. I had transitioned from a live-in nurse to a wife because his grandfather wanted me in his family. In his words, I was going to be the perfect woman for his grandson. It was a jarring arrangement, but not a terrible one. Arthur Vandermere loved me like the parents I never had, and Cedric was a nice gentleman who treated me with respect. So when I said yes, I wasn't really looking for a fantasy. I just hoped for a stable family and partnership. "I only agreed to this because Grandpa won't hand over my inheritance until I marry you," Cedric told me on our wedding night, his gentlemanly act dropping the second the door closed. "So don't have any high hopes." I quickly learned that even my simple dream of stability was a fantasy. "You don't seem very happy," Dr. Evans noted. "If things are complicated, or if you are worried about doing this alone..." "No, I'm just..." The paper trembled in my hands. I was two weeks gone. Two weeks ago when Cedric stumbled into my room drunk and touched me for the first time. "It's a lot to process," he said. "What about the father? Is he present?" "Yes, he is." My chest tightened with a sudden, fierce pride. "That's good." I nodded, genuinely believing it was. I placed a soft hand over my stomach. Cedric had ordered me not to have high hopes on our wedding night, but holding that positive test, the hope came rushing back anyway. Our little baby. This was the breakthrough our marriage needed. Everything was going to change and my husband wouldn't be so cold towards me anymore. I walked out of the clinic with my heart racing, nervous about how he would take the news. But I still chose to look at the bright side. I got home just around the time he usually returned from work and headed to his bedroom, the positive test result folded securely in my palm, my heart beating a hopeful rhythm against my ribs. All the way up the stairs, I played out the conversation in my head. I imagined his silence, his shock, and more direly, the look on his face that would confirm everything between us was about to change for the better. But I wasn't prepared for the sudden noise that broke the quiet of the hallway. I stopped. The noise stopped too. I took another step forward to test the silence. The sound hit my ears a second time. It was echoing from the other end of the large hall. I abandoned my path to Cedric's bedroom and started walking towards the rarely used guest rooms, unconsciously crinkling the paper in my grip. The door to the room was already halfway open, so I held my breath and nudged it open just a bit wider. Cedric was right there. He was still wearing the same gray suit he'd left the house in this morning. But looking at him felt like staring at a stranger. He was cradling an infant, dangling a plastic rattle while making cooing noises. There was a huge smile on his face. I'd never seen him smile like that before; never even thought he was capable of it. The child was easily five or six months old. The room spun slightly. We had only been married for five months. My eyes went past Cedric to the woman standing in front of him. She was playing with the baby's toes while exchanging a soft look with my husband. There was no doubt she was the mother. She was the reason Cedric's peripheral vision couldn't even notice my shadow standing a few feet away from him. My head spun with the different possibilities of who that woman and that baby could be to Cedric. I had options. Too many options. But there was one answer I was desperately praying was wrong. An ache began at my temples, and I blinked heavily. The baby suddenly burped milk onto Cedric's suit, and he just laughed. The woman used the napkin she was already holding to wipe the mess from his chest. And as she did, they stared fondly at each other. The gravity in the hallway must have doubled. Balance deserted me. It felt as if blood was being pulled out of my head, making everything spin. "Quite the sight, isn't it?" I jerked around. Victoria Vandermere was standing in front of me. Every line of her face radiated with malice. She was relishing the look on my face like it was a delicious meal. This woman had been nothing but a nightmare since day one. "That beautiful picture you see over there? That's exactly how things should have been before you came and ruined everything." I grit my teeth, my fingers further crushing the test paper. She gazed at the door behind me and continued, "That was the woman Cedric was going to marry. But then you had to use your little tricks on Arthur to secure a place here. That boy is their beautiful child. "So shouldn't you be planning to excuse yourself from this family? Undo whatever spell you did on Arthur and get lost." I forced my eyes back to the gap in the door as I heard her footsteps retreat behind me as if her sole mission there was done. As much as I hated hearing it from Victoria, she was speaking the truth. I had walked straight into a trap of my own making. 'Were you that starved of a home, Elora?' He warned you. He told you not to have any high hopes. 'What kind of person ignores a warning just because she wants to feel loved?' 'What was I thinking, running up those stairs like a fool? Like I finally found the ultimate bargaining chip for his affection?' 'Just look at his eyes. All that love, and there's nothing for you in it.' I retreated inch by inch from the door, and by then, the paper in my grip was mangled beyond repair. The self-delusion had to stop. I was an outsider here, and the earlier I let that get stuck in my head the better it would be for me. I placed my palm flat on my stomach. I had to focus only on what was truly mine here. Something that belonged only to me, that no false arrangement or illusion could take away.

ELORA Pop. I grabbed the hot bread from the toaster with my bare hands and dropped it into my plate. I swear I wasn't trying to be a masochist. I was just out of patience this morning. While I waited for the chunk of butter I'd just scraped over the toast to melt, I heard a scuff of feet behind me. I looked towards the doorway. He was standing by the island looking like a miniature yacht owner. Crisp slacks and a stiff shirt with leather shoes. The tiny briefcase, too. I had to hold back the pout forming on my lips. "All prepared for school, I see," I said as I wiped butter off the knife and then tossed it into the sink. Jamie nodded, though his eyes dropped to my plate. "Can I have some?" "Didn't you already eat this morning?" "I did," he admitted. "But I love your toast. Mommy won't let me have yours, so..." To my amusement, the four-year-old pulled the edge of his pants pocket open. He shot me a very serious look. "You can just hide it right here." I couldn't help the snort that escaped me. "Yeah, no. Stuffing food in your pockets is a bad habit. Plus, you have to listen to your mom. She knows what's best for you." "But yours is crunchier," he grumbled as he let the pocket drop in defeat. I barely had a second to revel in my superior toasting skills when a rapid-fire clack-clack-clack of heels started coming our way. Vanessa appeared behind her son and snapped at him. "What did I tell you about loitering in the kitchen?" She pulled him a step back from the island. "And you know better than to crease your clothes before school. Come on." Jamie's tiny briefcase suddenly looked a lot heavier as she spun him around and marched him back out into the hall. I continued with breakfast like none of that just happened. If anyone ever wondered why my husband's ex was living under the same roof as us, they could thank Cedric's aunt for that. Vanessa was allegedly suffering from a post-partum heart condition at the time she showed up four years ago with Jamie. So Victoria used her manipulation and moved Vanessa into her own quarters of the mansion under the guise of being a distant relative. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement until she "recovered." Here we were, four years later. Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest as she strolled back into the kitchen. "Why were you trying to feed my child behind my back?" she demanded. I took a delicious bite out of my bread without a single word. "Since you don't have a child of your own, I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're trying to poison mine with your unhealthy garbage." This woman probably drank a gallon of trouble before bed every night so she could wake up in the morning brimming with it. The only good thing I could ever say about Vanessa was her sweet little kid. When Vanessa saw that I wouldn't react to her, she walked over and smacked my bread right out of my hands before I could take another bite. The toast landed butter-side down on the floor. I slowly closed my eyes and pushed my lips to the side, taking a deep breath. God, not today. I didn't want to do something I'd regret. Or maybe something I'd enjoy a little too much. I picked up the bread and dropped it into the trash can. Breakfast was officially over. I wiped my hands on a towel and headed for the living room. "I'm not finished with you." Vanessa blocked my path. "Get out of my way, Vanessa. I'm in no mood for your antics this morning." She sneered, "Oh, you haven't seen any of my antics just yet." I flashed a close-mouthed smile. "Vanessa? Get out of my way. Don't test me," I sang the warning with the same patronizing pitch I'd use on a misbehaving preschooler. "Or what?" she retorted. That smugness on her face instantly died as I shoved her out of my way. She collided against a nearby lamp with a gasp. Almost immediately after, the heavy notes of Cedric's cologne began to drift into the space. Vanessa must have smelled it too, because she suddenly flung herself on the ground and started gasping for air, clutching her chest. Believe me, I was so over it I couldn't even roll my eyes. Cedric rushed towards Vanessa as soon as he saw her on the ground. He just dropped to his knees beside her dramatically flailing body. "What happened to her?" He looked up at me with wild eyes. "Why are you asking me? Am I her doctor?" He scooped Vanessa into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen, barking at one of the passing housekeepers to go fetch her medication. I followed at a leisurely pace, watching Vanessa put on a masterclass in terrible acting from the safety of Cedric's chest. She was panting like a dog in a hot car. "Oh god," I groaned sarcastically. "You've been acting this same melodrama for four years and you're still an amateur at it." Vanessa shot me a dead glare from Cedric's shoulder, but didn't stop gasping. Even when he laid her on the sofa. "Shouldn't you have Googled how to hyperventilate by now? Or at least watched a few tutorials-" "Elora," Cedric snapped. "Don't Elora me," I shot back. We locked eyes in the tense silence that followed. "Besides, I've been waiting for you all morning. Now that you're here, I have something to discuss with you," I told him. "Meet me upstairs, Cedric." Cedric joined me in his study about three minutes later, after he was done coddling Vanessa's tantrum. He shut the door. "What did you want to discuss?" It suddenly occurred to me that it was in this same room I'd met Cedric for the first time. I'd come to pick something up for Arthur and I saw him sitting in that chair. We'd shaken hands. I quickly trashed the memory as I pulled out a document from the envelope I was holding. I held it out to him. "I filed for a divorce." Cedric blinked a few times. He didn't say anything right away but his eyes were fixed on the paper. "Take it to your legal team and do whatever procedure you need done on your end. Just get it signed." He slowly stepped closer and took the document. As the paper left my fingers, a sudden rush of air swept up my arm. All those years of playing second best in a charade were now all summed up in a single stack of legal jargon. It was finally going to be over. We would go our separate ways. I was lifting the burden of this forced arrangement off his shoulders, so he could go play house in peace. I waited for the relief to wash over his face, and then for him to reach for his favourite fountain pen. I wasn't expecting to hear him say, "We're not getting a divorce."

ELORA I had to have misheard that, right? If anyone should be jumping for joy at the news of a divorce, it should be Cedric. Especially since I wasn't even asking for alimony. He didn't even have to pay to get rid of me. So why the hell was he looking at me like that? "I believe I just told you we're getting a divorce." "And I heard you," he said as he dropped the sheet of paper on his desk. "But it's not happening." I frowned at his face, inching closer to his six-foot frame. "This is not a joke, Cedric. My lawyer has already filed the copies." "Then tell him to un-file them." I scoffed. This was just unbelievable. "Besides, Grandpa just died, Elora. The grass on his grave hasn't even started sprouting." I actually smiled at that, though it was more like me baring my teeth. "That's exactly why it's time we divorced." I had been putting up with this nonsense for one reason and one reason only. Arthur. Cedric was only in this for his inheritance, but my anchor was the old man. I was his nurse first. That was the only real thing I had in this suffocating house. Arthur had really believed he planned the matchmaking of the century. He died a month ago without ever knowing about Vanessa or Jamie. I knew how devastated he would have been to see what our daily lives actually looked like, so I kept my mouth shut. I hated Cedric for trying to play the Arthur card on me now. I really did. This divorce was the one thing I'd been looking forward to for so long. Not that I was waiting for Arthur to die, but I always knew I'd eventually summon the courage to leave one day. But if I was also being very honest with myself, I couldn't blame all my hesitation on Arthur. There was also this very stupid, tiny part of me that kept hoping things might change. My childhood at the orphanage was to blame for that. They always fed those silly motivational speeches down our throats every single day. 'No matter how bad it gets, it can always get better.' That nonsense. They overdosed me with that toxic optimism. Well, Arthur never got better, there's that. I'd hoped he would recover enough so his heart could take the news when I finally told him I didn't want the marriage anymore. He was gone now. "You should be thrilled," I told Cedric. My vision suddenly blurred, much to my own annoyance. I held back the tears, shoving the paper back at his chest. "I was forced on you, so sign it." He didn't take it. "We cannot get divorced." "Why?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Why the fuck shouldn't I be free of this now?" Cedric sighed slowly and then paced a tight line down his office, running a hand back through his hair. He looked agitated. How dare he even try to look like he was having a hard time with this? While I stared at the back of his head, a pathetic thought slid into my mind. I imagined he'd turn back around right then and say he was refusing the divorce because he wasn't suffocated by me anymore. Maybe he was about to tell me he wanted to make things right with us. Not that my decision would change if he actually said that to me. But I just couldn't think of what this refusal could possibly be about. "Our marriage is a secret to the public. I kept to our agreement on that. If it's about your image, you have nothing to lose. No one in this family wanted this marriage enough that they'd willingly run to the press to proclaim it later." He stopped pacing and then looked at me, his jaw clenched. "I signed an agreement with Grandpa." I frowned. "What?" "Half of my inheritance was put into a trust," Cedric said flatly and completely devoid of the romantic confession I'd stupidly braced for. "I don't get it unless our marriage reaches at least six years. This is just four years and eleven months," he said. My stomach bottomed out. "What trust? How come I'm just hearing about this now? Arthur didn't tell me anything." "It was a secret condition he proposed before he died, and I wasn't supposed to tell you." At the end of the day, all this man still cared about was his money. I knew he was enduring this marriage for his inheritance, I just didn't know there was an ultimatum attached. "So you're telling me you signed it." He nodded affirmatively. It felt like my life was flashing before my eyes. So I still had to endure this for one more year when I had already set my mind on it being over today? One year and a month. "Fine," I said. "Have your one year. But I'm leaving this house now. When your clock is up, call me. Then we'll end this once and for all." I then stormed out of the study. There was so much heaviness in my chest. It felt like a boulder was crushing my lungs. Vanessa was standing by the landing of the staircase when I started bringing my things down. Zero effort to hide her triumphant sneer. This was exactly what she and Victoria had been dreaming of. I stopped at the door and glanced around the massive space. Four years I'd slept under this roof, walked these halls, eaten at that ridiculously long dining table. As much as I hated to admit it, it still felt like I was leaving home. A prison home. I dragged my luggage down the stone path wrapping around the east wing, and stopped at the gates of Arthur's memorial garden. The air inside the garden smelled of wet mulch and jasmine. I parked my suitcase on the grass and walked past the flowerbeds. Arthur's plaque was almost fully smothered by the white rose petals. I sighed heavily, looking down at his name like I could still see him lying in his bed, his face always lighting up whenever he looked at me. "You gave me a seat at a table that was never meant for me, Arthur." I wondered if he was watching me right now. From the other world the dead were said to migrate to. "God knows I tried. I really did." My voice broke. I quickly swallowed it all down. "Thank you so much for everything." I broke a pale stem from the nearest bush and rested the bloom over the engraved letters. "I'm leaving now." From there, I walked away, never to return. Forty minutes later, I pulled into the driveway of an apartment building. My best friend, Chloe, was already waiting outside with a chunky knit cardigan wrapped around her shoulders. She rushed over and pulled me into a tight hug as soon as I got out of the car. I simply let out a long exhale against her shoulders without a word. "Come on." She grabbed the handle of my heaviest bag. I followed her into the elevator and up to the eleventh floor. The second Chloe pushed her front door open, a warm wave of citrus-scented air greeted me. The tension locking my spine was almost gone in an instant, and I broke into a bright smile. "Mommy!" I dropped to my knees right at the door, opening my arms wide in time for my little angel to fling herself against my chest.