Chapter 3

ARIA'S POV

The phone slipped out of my fingers and landed on the bed. Dante's words echoed in my head, each one feeling like a knife twisting in my stomach.

“...you are not allowed to get pregnant with my child. If you are, you better get rid of it. Immediately.”

I sat there, numb, staring at nothing. How could he? How could he be so heartless?

"Breathe, Aria," I whispered to myself, but the air felt thick, choking me.

Minutes crawled by. Or was it hours? I couldn't tell.

Suddenly, a loud buzz cut through the quiet.

My phone.

I glanced at it, feeling a mix of hope and dread. Maybe Dante had…

With a shaky hand, I reached for the device. "Unknown number," the screen read.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Great. Just what I need. Some telemarketer trying to sell me crap I don't want."

I almost tossed it aside, but something made me hesitate. Call it a woman's instinct or just plain curiosity, but I found myself opening the message.

Just then, I gasped and quickly covered my mouth with my hand.

There, on my screen, was a picture. But it was not just any picture. It was Dante with his arm around Linda - both of them grinning like they had won the lottery. They were in what looked like a doctor's office, and Linda... oh goodness, Linda was holding an ultrasound picture.

"Linda is pregnant??" I whispered, my voice cracking. "No, no, no. This can't be real."

I zoomed in, desperately searching for some sign that this was fake. A badly photoshopped edge, a weird shadow, anything. But it was real. As real as the little life growing inside me.

A laugh bubbled up from my chest, harsh and bitter. "Is this a joke?" I asked the empty room. "Am I being pranked? Dante!"

"Ahhh" I choked out, bending over as a wave of nausea hit me.

It all made sense now. This was exactly why he didn't want me to have his child.

I stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it before I threw up. As I sat on the cold tile floor, I pulled out my phone again, staring at the damning picture.

"Why, Dante?" I whispered as I traced his face on the screen. "Why would you do this to me? To us?"

Suddenly, it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened, and I gasped, trying to force air into my lungs.

Then, as if the universe decided I hadn't suffered enough, a sudden sharp pain ripped through my stomach. I bent over, clutching at my belly.

"Ouch!" I whimpered. "Please, no."

The pain subsided for a moment, tricking me into thinking it was over. But seconds later, it came back even stronger. I tried to stand, but my legs were weak. I half-crawled, half-dragged myself back to the bed.

My fingers reached for the emergency call button and I pressed it repeatedly in quick succession.

A nurse burst into the room, her eyes wide with concern. "Princess Aria? What's wrong?"

"The doctor," I managed to gasp out through the pain. "Get the doctor. Please."

She nodded and quickly left, and I just lay there, curled into a ball, silently praying for the pain to stop.

It felt like an eternity, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before the door burst open again.

Dr. Rita rushed in with three nurses by her side. Her face was a mask of professional concern as she approached my bed.

"What's going on, Princess?" she asked, her voice calm but urgent.

"Pain," I managed to say. "My stomach. It hurts so bad."

She nodded to the nurses. "Help her lie flat."

Gentle hands helped me lie on my back. I winced as Dr. Rita's cool fingers examined my stomach.

"Princess," she said, her voice serious. "You're in the early stages of pregnancy, and your body has recently undergone significant stress. Your fetal position is very unstable right now."

Fear gripped my heart. "What does that mean? Is my baby okay?"

Dr. Rita's eyes softened. "For now, yes. But I need to strongly advise you to be extremely careful for the rest of your pregnancy. Any more stress or physical strain could result in a miscarriage."

Her words should have scared me. They should have made me want to lie still and do everything in my power to protect this little life inside me. But all I could think about was Dante and Linda.

"I want to go home," I said suddenly, trying to sit up.

Dr. Rita put a hand on my shoulder. "I really think you should stay here for observation. At least for tonight."

I shook my head. "No. I can't... I can't be here. I need to go home."

"Princess," one of the nurses cut in. "Please listen to the doctor. It's for your own good, and that of your baby's."

However, their words seemed to blend into the background like a distant hum.

All I could see was that picture. All I could hear was Dante's voice telling me that he didn't want me to get pregnant for him.

"I'm leaving," I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The room spun for a moment, but I clenched my teeth and stood up.

"Please, Princess," Dr. Rita pleaded. "Think about your baby."

I turned to look at her, and I saw her flinch slightly at whatever she saw in my eyes. "My baby?" I laughed, but it was a broken sound. "The father of my baby is having another baby with his… his lover. Tell me, doctor, how am I supposed to think about anything else right now?

The room fell silent. I could feel their pitying stares, but I couldn't bear to meet their eyes.

"I just really need to get out of here," I said, my voice flat. “I need some fresh air.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked out. The doctor's words faded behind me, lost in the pain I was feeling. My feet moved of their own accord, carrying me down sterile hallways that all looked the same.

I didn't know where I was going. I didn't care. All I knew was that I had to get away, I had to escape the suffocating sympathy and the harsh reality of my situation.

As I walked past an open door, I heard voices coming from inside and it caught my attention. There was something about the voices that felt familiar.

I immediately slowed down, drawn to the sound like a moth to a flame.

And in that moment, my world shattered all over again.

There, in the hospital room, stood Dante and Linda. My Dante. The father of my baby. His arms were wrapped tenderly around another woman.

I froze, unable to move, unable to breathe. Linda was leaning into him, her face a picture of shy happiness. Dante's back was facing me, but I could see the gentle way he held her.

"I can't believe we're really doing this," Linda's voice drifted out, soft and filled with wonder.

Dante's laughter, once my favourite sound in the world, now felt like a painful stab in my heart. "I know, honey. It's crazy, right? But I'm so happy."