THE BILLIONAIRE’S BETRAYAL "Come Back Ex-wife

"Am so sorry, Mrs. McKnight," Doctor Maxim’s voice was calm, too calm. "The tumor in your cervix has refused to respond to the medication." Aria blinked slowly. Her ears heard the words, but her brain hadn’t caught up yet. "You will start feeling weak and dizzy," he continued. "And your chances of conceiving naturally are very low." She turned her face toward him, confusion painting her delicate features. “What?” Her voice barely escaped her lips. Doctor Maxim didn’t flinch. His expression was etched in professional sympathy, but no amount of kindness could soften his words. "I know this is a hard time for you, but you can continue with the medication as we hope to find the best doctor for your operation." That was it. He ended the conversation like he was telling her she had the flu and would recover soon. He rose and left the office, the quiet click of the door closing sounding more final than anything she’d ever heard. Aria stood still for a moment. The walls of the office suddenly felt like they were caving in. Her breaths grew shallow, fast, her fingers trembling as she clutched her handbag tightly. No. No. No. This can’t be happening. She stepped outside the hospital building, the daylight blinding her eyes, and headed for her car in silence. But halfway there, her knees buckled slightly. Her feet no longer felt like hers. The air around her seemed heavier, distant. She pressed the car key, slipped into the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. She didn’t start the engine. Instead, her hands went numb on the steering wheel as the doctor’s words echoed again and again in her head like a haunting song: "The tumor has refused to respond. Your chances of conceiving are very low." Her lips parted, but no sound came out—until the sob broke through. “What—what does he mean I can’t bear children?” she cried, her voice raw. Her hands covered her face as tears poured from her eyes. “No, God, please, no,” she cried louder now, hitting the steering wheel with both fists. “This can’t be true. Please not this. Not children.” Then Dante's face came to mind—his smile when he talked about their future, the joy in his eyes whenever they mentioned having kids. She could still remember how he cradled her belly once, even though it wasn’t swollen, and whispered, “One day, we’ll have a little girl who looks just like you.” Her sobs grew louder. “What will I tell Dante?” she whispered in agony. “That I can’t give him the one thing he dreams of most? He’s always wanted kids. He talks about it like it’s the one thing that will complete our life.” She shook her head violently. “What about my mother-in-law?” she said, her voice rising. “She’s already started dropping hints about grandchildren. Once she knows I can’t bear children, she’ll have a reason to push me out. She never liked me.” The tears kept flowing, drowning the collar of her blouse. She reached for a tissue but couldn’t even wipe her face properly—her hands were too weak. “What did I do to deserve this?” she screamed into the empty car. “God, why me? What sin did I commit that I don’t know of?” But the heavens were silent. When her tears finally dried—only because she couldn’t cry anymore—she turned the ignition and drove home, the road ahead blurry through her swollen eyes. The city looked the same, people bustled on the sidewalks, laughter spilled out from café windows, horns honked—but inside her, something had died. By the time she pulled into the driveway of the McKnight mansion, the doctor’s words were still bouncing in her skull like a cruel chant. Emily, the young maid, rushed to the car as usual with a wide smile. “Welcome back, ma’am. Do you want anything?” “No, I’m okay,” Aria murmured, stepping out. “But ma’am,” Emily said, trailing her gently, “I’ve made some juice. You’ll like it. It’s fresh.” “I said shut up!” Aria snapped suddenly, her voice sharp and unrecognizable even to herself. “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t want anything!” Emily froze, her mouth slightly open, shock washing over her features. Aria had never raised her voice before. “I—are you okay, ma’am?” “Just go do your work,” Aria said coldly, pushing past her and heading straight for the stairs. Emily stared after her, whispering under her breath, “Why would she take her anger out on me?” Aria rushed to her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her, locking it. She leaned back against it, heart pounding. Her eyes scanned the room, but nothing looked familiar. It was like she’d walked into someone else’s life. She collapsed onto the bed and curled into herself. Then Dante’s face returned to her mind again—his laughter, the way he called her “my sunshine,” the way he held her in the dark when she had nightmares. He had loved her through thick and thin, stood by her during her lowest moments. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t tell him. He’ll be shattered.” She sat up, her eyes bloodshot, heart racing. “He had such high hopes for our future. We were supposed to build a family. What do I give him now? What can I offer him now besides pain?” A sharp sob escaped her lips. “He deserves to be happy,” she said softly. “He deserves a full life. A real family. I can’t be the reason for his misery.” She got up and paced the room, her hands clutching her head. The TV in the corner was still on, low volume, flickering images of a morning talk show filling the space. That’s when it hit her. She remembered the story that trended a few weeks ago—a woman, terminally ill, who arranged for her husband to marry her sister before she died. Everyone called it the ultimate sacrifice. They praised her selflessness. Aria remembered shaking her head at the time, thinking she could never do that. But now… Maybe that’s the only way. “If I want Dante to be happy,” she whispered, swallowing hard, “I have to find someone else for him. Someone who can give him what I can't.” She stood still, the thought heavy in her chest. “I have to do it. I have to matchmake for him. It’s the only way.” The idea horrified her and comforted her at the same time. It felt like being stabbed with a warm blade. She walked slowly to the mirror, staring at herself for a long moment. Her face looked pale, haunted, but beneath that, there was determination. Tears welled again in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “This is for him,” she whispered to her reflection. “Even if it breaks me.”