CARLOS’ POVThe car is silent as we move through the city. I watch the world pass by outside the window, but my mind is tangled in the words my mother threw at me earlier.“She only wants you for your money.”I grit my teeth and shake my head slightly, hoping the thought will rattle out of my brain. That couldn’t be true, right? Lina loves me. I know she does. But still… my mother’s words echo in my mind.Emily had never given me a reason to doubt her. She was a great wife—supportive, patient, and kind. And even though things between us had fallen apart, I couldn’t deny that she had always been there for me. Maybe that’s what was bothering me. Maybe I expected to feel something more, something greater, now that I was with Lina. But there’s something missing, something I can’t quite place. I should be happier than this.A soft sigh pulls me from my thoughts. I glance over at Lina, noticing the way her shoulders slump, her hands wringing in her lap. The sorrow on her face is obvious, an
CARLOS’ POVThe moment I step onto the balcony, I see her. Emily.She’s sitting on a lounge chair. The golden rays of the sunset highlights her beautiful face. Her long hair falls over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that makes my chest tighten. There’s something about her—an effortless beauty, a quiet strength—that I can’t ignore. My fingers twitch at my sides. I feel a foreign warmth spreading through me. I push it down, forcing my face into its usual neutral expression.Clearing my throat, I step forward. “Emily.”She barely acknowledges me. She tilts her glass slightly, swirling the juice inside before bringing it to her lips. Her eyes move toward me for the briefest moment before looking away.She’s upset.I can tell.I hesitate. The tension between us is thick, but I press on.“I wanted to apologize for what happened before.” I say “But I also need you to be more understanding toward Lina.”At this, she stiffens. Her fingers tighten around her glass, and when she fina
CARLOS’ POVI bolt from the balcony, not bothering to grab my coat. Emily calls after me but I don’t hear her. Her voice doesn’t register in my mind. I don’t have time to listen to her.I don’t call for my driver. I just take the keys to the nearest car and move out of the driveway, tires screeching against the pavement. My pulse is erratic and my breath keeps coming in ragged gasps as I grip the steering wheel tighter, pushing the speed limit.Why? Why would she do this? I just saw her this morning. She seemed fine—or at least, she didn’t let on that anything was wrong. Was it my mother? Was it because of the confrontation, but would that push her to this? No, there had to be something more. Something I missed.The thoughts spiral in my mind, right now, I feel like I’m in a storm I can’t control. My heart slams against my ribcage as I swerve through traffic. As I drive, all I can think about is getting to Lina. I won’t let anything happen to her. I can’t.By the time I reach the hosp
CARLOS’ POVI leave the hospital with a storm raging inside me. My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white, and my jaw aches from clenching it too hard. Lina had been quiet—too quiet. She had smiled at me, told me she was fine, but I knew better. I saw the way her hands trembled when she thought I wasn’t looking, the way she avoided my eyes like she was hiding something.Lina is one of the happiest and most people I know. For Lina to even think of or consider committing suicide, someone must have put her in severe distress. And I know exactly who’s to blame.Emily.The name alone fuels the fire burning in my chest. I don’t know exactly what was said between them, but I know Emily. She wasn’t comfortable with Lina staying in the house from day one. Emily can be ruthless when she wants to be. And Lina… Lina is tough, but she’s also got a heart too soft for this kind of treatment. She just wants everyone to be happy. Emily must have said something to her for Lina
EMILY’S POVI can’t believe what I’m hearing.Carlos stands in my room with his face twisted with fury, telling me—no, demanding—that I apologize to Lina. The words echo in my mind. The whole thing is absurd. I stand there, stunned.“You want me to apologize?” My voice comes out in a whisper, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. “For what, exactly?”Carlos’s jaw tightens. “Lina tried to kill herself, Emily.”My breath catches. “What?”“She attempted suicide,” he spits out “And it’s because of you.”The air leaves my lungs. My entire body goes cold. But not because I believe him—no, it’s because of the sheer betrayal in his voice. Because Carlos, the person who’s supposed to know me, supposed to understand me, actually thinks I’m capable of pushing someone to that point.I shake my head, looking at him in disbelief “You really think I would drive someone to that?”Carlos doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”The single word stabs me like a blade. I feel it deep in my chest, in the part of me that st
EMILY’S POVThe moment my eyes open, I know something is wrong. My body feels like it’s been weighed down by bricks. Every muscle inside me aches as if I’d run a marathon in my sleep. A feverish heat spreads through me, making the sheets feel hot against my skin. My throat is dry, and when I try to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashes over me, forcing me to grip the edge of the bed for stability.No. Not today.I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force the nausea away, but my stomach twists violently. My hand instinctively clutches my abdomen. The baby. Is everything okay? A feeling of worry grips my heart, but I force myself to take a slow breath. I can’t panic—not now.I just need to get through this morning, wait for Carlos to leave, and then I’ll go to the hospital.I have to make sure my baby is alright.Another wave of sickness rises, and I barely have time to grab the trash can before I’m throwing up inside it. My entire body shakes as I clutch the rim. My throat burns, and tears
EMILY’S POVMy breath catches in my throat at Carlos' words. Sure, he told me I was beautiful about three minutes ago. Still, I feel some type of way about it. "I’ll take care of you," he says, bringing me out of my thoughts.I blink up at him, in surprise.“Carlos, you don’t have to do that,” I murmur, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’ll be fine.”He shakes his head “I do have to. And I will.”I swallow hard. It’s too much. His concern, the way he’s looking at me right now—like I matter, like I’m still his wife in more than just name. But I’m not. He’s divorcing me. He loves another woman.So why is he doing this?Carlos gestures toward the nightstand. “Did you take the rest of the meds the doctor prescribed the other time? It could be the same sicnkess”Panic spikes through me “I—”He frowns, waiting for my answer. “Do you need more?”I shake my head quickly. “No.”It’s not a lie. I don’t need them. I can’t take them. Not with the life growing inside me.Carlos studies me for a
EMILY’S POVThe next morning, I wake up to an empty bed.For a moment, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, letting the warmth of the sheets remind me of last night—of Carlos. But he's gone now, as if he was never here at all. The space beside me is cold, and I sigh.I sit up slowly, stretching my limbs before my hand instinctively moves to my stomach. I can’t help but smile as I rub the small curve where my baby grows."Good morning, my love," I whisper. As if responding to me, I feel a tiny movement against my hand, and I gasp, laughing softly. "You’re up early today. Just like your daddy..." My voice falters at that last part, and my heart clenches painfully.Carlos.I love him. I love him more than I can even begin to describe. But I can't keep doing this to myself. Last night was a moment of weakness, a moment where I allowed myself to pretend, just for a little while, that things were different. That he still belonged to me. But the truth is, he doesn't. He loves someone e
EMILY’S POVThe air in the room thins until it feels like I’m breathing through a straw.I stare at Lina in shock. For a moment, I think I’m seeing things.What the hell is she doing here?My mouth is dry and my heart is hammering so loud I can barely hear anything else. She stands there in the doorway like she owns the place, hips cocked to the side, perfectly manicured nails tapping against her tablet. Her red dress clings to her body like it’s painted on. Her hair falls down her shoulders in perfect, glossy waves.I force my voice to work. "Lina? What... what are you doing here?"“Lina?” Bridget echoes in confusion.Lina smiles. That smug, superior smile she’s perfected so well. It’s like she’s drinking in the chaos she’s just unleashed, savoring it. She catwalks into the room as if she belongs there.Around me, the board members shift uncomfortably. I hear low whispers.Bridget, from the side of the room, mutters under her breath, "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me."Victori
EMILY’S POVThe trip to Paris was great. Alexander’s driver drops me off at home. I didn’t have anything to drink but for some reason, I feel hungover.I’m barely through the front door when my phone buzzes again. A maid opens the door for me.“Good day, Miss Emily” she greets.“Hi” I say to her with a smile “How are you?”I go in, slipping out of my shoes, and glance at the screen. It’s an email.I tap it open, expecting another promotional message or maybe something from the clinic — but when I see the subject line, my heart leaps into my throat.Partnership Proposal: Maison de Lune Fashion House.I blink once. Twice. Just to make sure I’m not seeing things. No, I’m not imagining it.My fingers fumble a little as I click it open, reading the words over and over again. They’re inviting me — me — to a meeting. They want to talk about bringing my designs to life. They’re interested in opening a studio. With me.A squeal rips out of me before I can stop it. I spin around in the middle o
DANIEL’S POVI sit at my desk. My fingers are tapping on the table as the monitor in front of me flashes search results. Lina. Lina. Lina. Dozens of articles. Hundreds of names. None of them her.Each time I think I've found a lead, it slips through my fingers like smoke. A "Lina Morales" in Boston — no match. A "Lina M." in Los Angeles — wrong face. Wrong age. I close each tab one after another. With each second, I get more frustrated."She's a ghost," I mutter under my breath. Not even a damn traffic ticket. Not a whisper of scandal. Nothing. And that, in itself, is the biggest red flag of all.Nobody's that clean. Not unless they have a reason to scrub their past.I know nothing about her apart from the fact that she was married which I find absurd.I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair.Why are you hiding, Lina? What the hell are you so desperate to erase?I can't shake the feeling — that itching intuition that something big is sitting just beneath the surface, h
CARLOS’ POVThe sun is too damn bright.I squint as I step out of the car, watching Lina prance ahead of me toward the massive baby boutique like she’s heading into a candy store. Her heels click confidently on the pavement and her hand waves behind her as if to say come on, slowpoke. I catch up because I have to—not because I want to.Truth is, I feel like I’ve been dragged here. Like a leash has been tied around my neck, pulling me along with every smile, every “Carlos, this’ll be fun,” As the glass doors slide open, I hear the sound of lullabies inside the store. Everything is shiny. Expensive. The kind of place where cashmere blankets are folded like art and cribs cost more than some people’s rent.“Isn’t it beautiful?” Lina’s voice is sugar. She spins on her heel and takes my hand, tugging me forward. “I’ve been dying to come here.”I give her a faint smile. “Isn’t it a little early to be shopping?”She waves me off. “It’s never too early. We’re gonna be parents, Carlos! We nee
CARLOS’ POVIt’s nearly midnight by the time I pull into the driveway.I don’t move.My hand rests on the steering wheel. My fingers are clenched around it like I’m hanging on to something that isn’t there anymore. I stare at the door. The light above it is on—of course it is. Lina always waits up. Whether it’s out of care, obligation, or suspicion, I still haven’t figured out.I lean back into the seat and close my eyes, trying to breathe through the weight that presses down on my chest.Emily.Her name slips into my thoughts. No matter how hard I try to shove her into some corner of the past, she always finds a way to creep back in. Her laugh. The way she used to greet me at the door in those big, fuzzy slippers with her hair pulled back and a smile that felt like home.God, I’m such a damn idiot.I divorced her. Why?Because it started as a contract. That’s what I keep telling myself. It was supposed to be transactional. Practical. We were never meant to feel anything.Except we do
Emily’s POVThe silk of the green dress shimmers under my fingertips as I smooth it down over my hips. I stare at my reflection one last time. The sweetheart neckline is modest yet elegant.The dress is perfect. Absolutely perfect.I snap a few pictures, biting my lip as I angle my phone just right. Then I hit send—to Bridget and Helen, because of course I have to. Almost immediately, my phone buzzes.Bridget: Girl, are you trying to end him? 😍🔥Helen: You’re a goddess. If he doesn’t faint on sight, I will.I laugh out loud. With one last spritz of perfume and a shaky deep breath, I step into the hallway and make my way down the elevator.Alexander is waiting in the lobby.The moment his eyes land on me, his eyes widen in surprise. He straightens to his full height. His eyes are locked on me like I’m the only woman in the world. Slowly, he walks to me with his lips partly open.He stops just in front of me, reaching for my hand as though it’s sacred. Then he lifts it to his lips.“Y
EMILY’S POVBack at the hotel, I slip off my shoes and finally exhale. After a quick shower, I pull on an oversized t-shirt Alexander gave me and crawl into the ridiculously soft hotel bed. I grab my phone and snap a couple of photos—the city skyline glowing from the window, the luxurious bathroom, the impossibly fluffy robe hanging on the door.I send them to Bridget and Helen.Bridget replies almost immediately: You’re one kiss away from falling for this man.I snort. Not gonna happen. He’s just… being sweet.Helen sends three heart-eyes emojis. Sweet is a slippery slope.I toss my phone aside and lie back, staring up at the ceiling. The room is quiet. I should feel relaxed, but instead, my mind won’t shut off. I’m grateful, absolutely. This whole surprise trip is thoughtful and generous. But not romantic. Not for me. And yet…I wonder if I’m being unfair. Am I giving Alexander the wrong idea? Should I have drawn a clearer line? He’s sleeping in the next room, probably thinking thi
EMILY’S POVThe jet touches down in Paris, and even though I’m tired to the bone, I press my face to the window like a kid. The city lights sparkle below us, and off in the distance, the Eiffel Tower glows like something out of a dream.I’m here.I’m actually in Paris.I can hardly believe it.Sure, I’ve traveled to a lot of places. But the fact that Alexander brought me here is still surprising to me. I mean, what guy takes you on his private jet to Paris all because you were having a stressful time? It says a lot about him and I don’t know how to process it.I rub my belly, smiling down at my child.“Hey baby” I whisper “We’re in Paris”As we step off the plane, the cool night air hits me. I shiver a little, and Alexander places a hand lightly on my back.“Welcome to the City of Lights,” he says with a smile in his voice.I smile back, trying to hide how overwhelmed I feel. “I still can’t believe you brought me here.”He gives me that look—like he’s proud of himself. “Just wait unti
EMILY’S POVThe dining table is a beautiful mess this evening. My laptop is open. Pencils are scattered and swatches of fabric are laid out beside sketches I’ve been working on all week. The sun has just started to set. It makes the colors in my designs look warmer, more alive. I’m in my zone, sketching out a flowy blush-toned evening dress while clicking between email drafts. I’m working on proposals to send to luxury boutiques and a few eco-friendly fabric brands, pitching my ideas for potential collaborations.For once, I’m not just dreaming—I’m doing. I’m really serious about starting something for myself. A fashion studio, my own label. Maybe I’ll even enroll in fashion school later on. This makes me happy. It’s always been my dream and it’s never too late to start.On my iPad, propped up by a napkin holder, a Facetime call with Bridget and Helen plays in the background. Bridget’s laugh is as loud as ever, and Helen looks effortlessly cool as always.“Okay, but that jumpsuit?” Br