Chapter Two
1143 Words
Amelia’s POV
The room is too quiet. Too still.
My sobs had faded into hiccups, but the silence that followed feels heavier than the crying itself like it’s pressing into my chest, reminding me of what Ethan just said. Divorce. A word sharp enough to slice through everything we’ve built, everything I thought we had.
I drag myself off the bed because lying there makes me feel like I’m drowning. My legs tremble beneath me, but I force them forward, padding across the room in bare feet. I grab onto the edge of the dresser for balance, my palm flattening against the cool wood.
The mirror catches me, and I wish it didn’t. My reflection looks like someone I don’t recognize. Eyes red and swollen. Skin blotchy from tears. My hair, usually something Ethan used to tuck behind my ear when he thought I wasn’t looking, is a wild mess around my shoulders.
I touch my stomach without meaning to. A small smile tugs at my lips a fragile, trembling thing as I remember the doctor’s voice: You’re pregnant, Mrs. Bennett.
I should be glowing right now. I should be racing home to share the news, to fall into Ethan’s arms and watch the relief, the happiness flood his face.
Instead…
I squeeze my eyes shut and grip harder at my stomach, like I can shield my baby from the chaos outside my skin. “I’ll protect you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Even if your father doesn’t want me anymore, he’ll want you. He has to.”
The sound of footsteps outside the bedroom jerks me out of my fragile promise. Ethan.
I freeze, listening as the door creaks open.
“Amelia?” His voice is clipped, almost cautious. Not the voice of a man speaking to his wife, but of someone who doesn’t know where he stands.
I turn toward him, tears still drying on my cheeks. My lips part, but the words stick in my throat. How could you? Why now? What changed? None of it comes out.
Instead, I hear myself ask softly, “Do you mean it? About the divorce?”
Ethan’s jaw clenches. His eyes flick to mine and then away, like looking at me hurts. “Yes.”
The air rushes from my lungs. “Why?” My voice cracks. “Ethan, why are you doing this? If I’ve done something, tell me. If you’re hurting, talk to me. Don’t just throw us away.”
He runs a hand through his hair, frustration written across every line of his body. “It’s not working anymore, Amelia. We’ve been… drifting. You know it. I can’t keep pretending.”
Drifting? My heart lurches. No, we weren’t. At least I didn’t think so. Sure, he’d been working late more often, distracted at dinner, but I told myself it was stress. A phase. Nothing marriage-ending. Nothing this final.
“We can fix it,” I plead, taking a step closer. My fingers reach for his arm, desperate for some kind of anchor, but he pulls back before I can touch him.
The rejection is like a knife.
“There’s nothing to fix,” he says flatly. His eyes, usually so warm, are cold steel.
For a moment, I can’t breathe. The urge to tell him about the baby burns in my throat. Maybe if he knew, if he realized what was at stake, he’d change his mind. Maybe he’d remember the man who once swore he’d never let me go.
My lips part, the words nearly tumbling out but then his phone vibrates on the nightstand.
Both of us look at it at the same time.
The screen lights up. A woman’s name flashes across it. “Sienna.”
My chest tightens. My mind scrambles. I’ve never heard that name before. Not a colleague, not a friend we share. The way it lights up his phone feels too intimate. Too wrong.
Ethan grabs the phone quickly, almost too quickly. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at me as he shoves it into his pocket.
Something icy slides into my veins. “Who’s that?”
His silence is louder than any confession.
“Ethan.” My voice trembles, but it’s laced with anger now, not just pain. “Who is she?”
He finally meets my eyes, and there’s something there I can’t name. Guilt? Regret? Or just irritation at being cornered?
“It doesn’t matter,” he mutters, brushing past me.
I spin, my heartbeat wild. “It does matter! If you’re leaving me for someone else, at least have the decency to say it!”
He stops in the doorway, shoulders rigid. For a moment, I think he might turn back, might tell me the truth. But then he exhales sharply and says, “I don’t owe you that.”
The words slice me open.
He leaves, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall, and I crumble to my knees. My hand instinctively goes back to my stomach. My tears drip onto the carpet, hot and endless.
I’m not just losing my husband.
I’m losing the man I thought he was.
But one thing solidifies in my chest, even as the sobs wrack through me: I have to know who she is. Whoever this Sienna is… she’s the reason everything is falling apart.
Later that night, when the house is quiet and Ethan is shut away in his study, I sit curled on the bed, staring at the faint glow under the door where his light seeps into the hall. My chest aches, but my mind is restless.
I replay the way he grabbed his phone. The way his voice faltered. The way he avoided my eyes.
I know Ethan. I’ve loved him long enough to recognize when he’s lying. And tonight every word he spoke tasted like a lie.
I bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying again. My fingers press into my stomach. I have to be strong now. For me. For the baby.
But as much as I want to stay strong, I can’t shake the image of that name glowing on his phone screen.
“Sienna.”
Whoever she is, she’s already stolen my husband from me.
The night stretches on, the clock ticking louder with every passing second. I don’t sleep. I can’t. Every creak of the house feels like a reminder that nothing is the same anymore. That my life is splitting apart thread by thread.
And yet, beneath the pain, beneath the fear, there’s something else a spark of anger. Of determination.
If Ethan thinks he can throw me away for another woman, he’s wrong.
If Sienna thinks she can replace me, she’s mistaken.
Because I’m not just Amelia Bennett, the wife Ethan discarded.
I’m the mother of his child.
And I will fight.
- Writer
