I didn’t tell Adrian the first time I suspected.
I told myself it was stress.
Lack of sleep.
Emotional overload.
War brewing with Victor.
My father’s condition.
Anyone would feel off-balance under that weight.
But when the nausea came again that morning—sharp and sudden—I knew it wasn’t just anxiety.
I barely made it to the bathroom before dropping to my knees.
The marble floor was cold beneath my palms.
My reflection in the mirror looked pale. Fractured.
“You’re fine,” I whispered to myself.
But I wasn’t.
And deep down—
I knew why.
Three weeks.
I counted backward quickly.
The contract had been signed four weeks ago.
Our public wedding night had been staged.
But the real night—
The one neither of us talked about—
The night the walls finally fell—
That had been three w
