After The Divorce, He Begged Me Back

Seraphina’s POV “He never stopped loving her.” The words didn’t need to be spoken. They were already carved into the obscene diamond glittering on Celeste Grayson’s finger, catching every stray light like it was laughing at me. I never really had a chance. She’d claimed him long before I understood the war had already been lost while I was still naive enough to believe love could be won through patience, devotion, and quiet sacrifice. The tabloids descended the moment the announcement hit. Cassian Thorn engaged. Again. The city tore into the story with relish, but I couldn’t even resent them. His name still sold heartbreak better than anything else on the market. The real wound, though, wasn’t in the headlines. It lived in the hollow space inside my chest where his name used to live, beating like a second heart. Less than an hour had passed between him forcing the pen into my trembling hand and the world announcing he now belonged to her. How long had he been touching her while I slept alone in the bed we once shared? How long had Celeste been the secret pulse beneath every cold glance he gave me? And the part that truly destroyed me: he believed every single lie they printed. Every poisoned word. He chose them over me. I wasn’t even shocked anymore. Just… empty. Earlier that day, the word “pregnant” kept ricocheting inside my skull — soft, vicious, and almost holy. Two years ago I would have given anything for this moment. I counted cycles, swallowed vitamins like prayers, cried silently into pillows every time another test came back blank. I convinced myself a baby might finally make him see me again the way he used to before his eyes turned to winter. Now I sat on the crinkling paper of the examination table, legs dangling, stomach churning from more than just morning sickness. The hospital smelled of bleach, death, and broken promises. I hated every breath of it. “You’re about five weeks,” the doctor said, her voice gentle enough to bruise. She smiled like she was handing me something precious. “Congratulations, Mrs. Thorn. You’re going to be a mother.” The room tilted. Tears came before I could stop them .After years of begging the universe for proof that I was still wanted. Maybe this child would bring him back. Maybe he’d hear the heartbeat and remember how he used to whisper my name like it was sacred. Maybe he’d pull me close again and hold me like I mattered. I pressed the ultrasound printout against my chest like a second heartbeat and stepped out into the dying gold of the afternoon. The world felt suddenly fragile, like it might shatter if I breathed too hard. Like it was daring me to believe one more time. My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped the phone while dialing him. One ring. Two. Three. Voicemail. My heart lurched. He never ignored my calls. Not even when he was furious. I told myself it was nothing but a meeting, a mood, he was allowed moods. This was bigger than moods. I headed to the estate anyway. Even if his secretary glared. Even if he was buried in work. This was his child too. He had to want to know. He had to. The estate gates loomed taller than I remembered, almost hostile. The staff didn’t greet me. They didn’t even pretend. Eyes slid away. Lips pressed thin. Even Evans the butler who used to slip me warm cookies when Cassian was in one of his tempers .... gave me only a fleeting, guarded glance before turning away. My pulse turned sick and fast. By the time I reached his study door, dread had coiled around my ribs like barbed wire. I didn’t knock. I just pushed the door open. There he stood. Cassian. Still devastating. Six-foot-five of lethal elegance wrapped in midnight wool, shoulders rigid, jaw carved from stone. He turned the moment I entered, and my stupid, traitorous heart clenched the way it always did. Those grey eyes.... the ones I used to drown in, the ones that once looked at me like I was the only thing keeping him human ...were now pure arctic. “Cassian,” I breathed. “I have something to tell you. Something… everything.” He didn’t speak. He simply raised his phone. My face stared back at me. Grainy. A stranger’s arm around me. A headline in screaming red: **Mrs. Thorn’s Secret Lover Revealed?** The room spun harder. “That’s not real,” I choked out. “Cassian — that’s not me. I swear I’ve never—” “How long?” His voice was quiet. Too quiet. The quiet before something explodes. “What?” “How long have you been f*****g him behind my back?” The words landed like a fist to the sternum. I staggered. “I haven’t — I’ve only ever been with you. You know that. You know me.” “I thought I did.” He stepped forward, slow, predatory. Every word dripped acid. “Perfect little wife. Devoted. Loyal. While you were spreading your legs for someone else.” “I gave you everything,” I whispered, voice splintering. “Everything. I love you.” He laughed once.“You love the ring. The houses. The name. The fairy tale. But me?” His eyes were flat. Dead. “You never loved me.” He reached behind him and dropped the folder onto the desk with deliberate force. Divorce papers. My heart stopped beating. “I’ve already signed,” he said without emotion. “You’re gone tonight.” “No.” The word tore out of me. “Cassian — please listen. I’m pregnant.” Silence thicker than death. “Our baby,” I said again, shaking so hard I could barely stand. “I’m carrying your child.” He looked at me like I was filth. “Nice touch, Seraphina.” His voice was silk wrapped around razor blades. “Desperation looks almost convincing on you.” “You think I would lie about our baby?” “I think you’d say anything to keep the credit cards working.” “I heard the heartbeat.” My voice cracked wide open. “I saw our child today.” I thrust the ultrasound toward him with trembling hands. He stepped in close his scent drowning me, cedar and whiskey and betrayal. Then he tore the picture in half. Then again. And again. Tiny pieces fluttered down between us like ash from a cremation. “You’re not the first woman who tried to chain me with a fake pregnancy,” he said softly. Almost tenderly. The last fragile thing inside me snapped. If he wanted me gone this badly… then let him have it. I signed. Every stroke of the pen felt like carving out ribs, lungs, heart. He took his copy without looking at me. No goodbye. “I expect you out. Immediately.” He walked past me like I was invisible. Like three years had been nothing more than a transaction gone sour. Later ....hours or minutes, time had lost meaning ... I sat outside the gates that used to feel like home. Wind clawed at my skin. Divorce papers frozen to my fingers. Everything was gone. Everything except the faint, stubborn pulse beneath my palm. I cradled my stomach with both hands, rocking slightly. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the tiny life inside me. My voice cracked on every syllable. “He doesn’t believe in you. But I do. I believe in you so much it hurts.” Tears came in waves I couldn’t stop. “I have nothing left. No name. No roof. No future. But I have you. And I swear on every broken piece of me… I will become everything you need. I will be enough. For both of us.” My phone glowed in the dark. **Cassian Thorn is now engaged to Celeste Grayson.** The photo loaded like a gunshot: him on one knee, her radiant, victorious, everything I was never allowed to be. The scream that ripped out of me wasn’t human. It was ancient. Animal. Shattering. Then I ran away from the mansion. "Cassian Thorn, I will make sure you feel every ounce of regret!" I sobbed, wiping my tears away.