My fingers tighten around the phone 89

Aria’s POV
I pulled myself up from the floor. Hours of crying had left my body feeling weaker than ever, but after six years, I’d grown
accustomed to forcing myself forward. I dragged my heavy feet toward the refrigerator and found a pot of soup that only
needed reheating. Seeing it made my eyes water again, but I had no tears left to shed—only dry, raspy sobs emerging
from my chest.
I pulled out the soup and set it on the stove to heat, then wandered aimlessly around the apartment, taking inventory of
what needed to be done. To my surprise, all the dishes had been removed from the dishwasher and put away, and the
laundry had been washed and folded neatly in the correct places. The carpets had been vacuumed, and even the stains
I’d always known needed cleaning had been tended to. By the time I returned to the kitchen, the soup was hot, and I was
still in shock. Ethan had really done so much. He had truly stepped up when I couldn’t bear the responsibility.
My breathing was unsteady, punctuated with dry coughs as I ladled soup into a bowl. I grabbed a spoon and settled on
the couch. We usually only ate at the dining table, but I felt terrible and craved the comfort of a mindless TV show and
this bowl of soup that smelled amazing. I switched on a reality show with zero nutritional value and started taking small
sips.
The soup tasted as wonderful as it smelled. I forced myself to eat slowly, though I wanted to gulp it down. Each delicious
spoonful made my eyes water and my heart ache more, even as my stomach was thoroughly satisfied. The way Ethan had
cared for us confused me. Had he done it because we were another one of his obligations? Because of a promise to my
father Marcus? I didn’t want to be another burden to him like Emma.
I hopelessly realized that I loved him.
My phone chimed with a notification, and I realized it was sitting on the coffee table. I picked it up to see a message from
David: Your car has been sent to the repair shop. It will be delivered to your home tomorrow morning. All repairs have
been completed.*
I stared at the screen for a long time. I had completely forgotten about my car until this moment. If David was telling me
this, it meant Ethan had found my car, had it towed to the repair shop, and paid for all the necessary repairs. I set my
phone back down, finished my soup, and wrapped myself in the blanket from behind the couch, wallowing in self-pity. I
loved Ethan, but I couldn’t have him as long as Emma remained in his life.
The next day, Zoe leaned against the bathroom stall in the training center as I knelt in front of the toilet for the third time
that morning. “You’re not fully recovered, poor warrior,” she said.
“I swear I felt fine last night. No issues with the soup. Fever was gone. Felt great when I came to the training camp.” I
glared at the toilet, hating this feeling—not just of being sick but of being utterly exhausted. I slid down against the stall
wall to sit on the floor, resting my head against the cool surface as I stared at the ceiling.
“Aria, you’ve been through a lot recently. Let your body recover completely,” Zoe advised.
When my stomach felt strong enough, I walked to my locker. The smell in the locker room overwhelmed me. The scent of
disinfectant and leather from the gym equipment gave me a nauseating headache. I needed to get out of here. I quickly
changed clothes, gathered my bag, and headed toward the small area where Lucas spent almost every morning. He sat
on a mat with his sketchbook, coloring.
“Hey, baby. What are you drawing?” I asked, sitting beside him and trying to peek over his shoulder. Lucas blocked it with
his body, glaring at me. I thought we had moved past this, but Lucas was still upset about Ethan leaving yesterday morning.
“Fine. I’ll show you if you tell Ethan to come over for dinner,” Lucas challenged.
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I shook my head. “Baby, we’ve discussed this; Ethan is with Emma. He’s nice to us, but we can’t rely on him.”
“No.” Lucas shook his head, tears filling his eyes.
I closed my eyes, feeling my stomach turn again. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore, Lucas. Get your things. It’s time
for school.”
After lunch, I stood in the shared office at the training camp, taking deep breaths. The entire office smelled of food,
overwhelming my system. I had administrative duties today with a mountain of paperwork to complete, and I didn’t have
time for this. I didn’t know if I would throw up my lunch or if I could continue working.
Zoe’s face appeared in the doorway. She looked up and down the corridor, then slipped inside, closing the door. I gave
her a weak smile.
Zoe grinned, then held up a plastic bag. “I brought some goodies for my favorite friend.”
I chuckled lightly, holding my stomach. As the nausea subsided, I relaxed. Zoe watched me closely. “Still feeling unwell?”
“Once I felt like this for a whole week,” Zoe said, carefully extracting a cheesecake from the plastic bag. The sweet vanilla
scent wafted toward me as she peeled back the lid and handed me a fork, its metal tines catching the fluorescent light. “I
couldn’t keep anything down. God, I was absolutely convinced I was pregnant—like, already picking out baby names
convinced.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “I panicked, took three tests, and nearly had a breakdown when they all
came back negative. Turned out to be just vertigo.”
Pregnant.
The word hit me like a physical blow. My fork slipped from my suddenly numb fingers, clattering against the floor with a
metallic ring that seemed to echo in my ears. My stomach twisted violently. I pressed my trembling hand against my
abdomen, the room suddenly spinning around me.
Zoe’s smile vanished instantly. Her eyes widened as she caught the color draining from my face. “Aria?” She was on her
feet in a heartbeat, warm fingers wrapping around my icy hand. She crouched beside me, her voice dropping to a whisper that held equal parts concern and understanding. “Hey, don’t freak out. I didn’t mean to scare you—it was just
vertigo that time.”
I could only manage a jerky nod, my throat so tight I couldn’t force words through it. My mind raced through a blur of
memories. Not once. Not a single time had we used protection. The realization crashed over me like a tidal wave, leaving
me gasping for air.
“Right,” I finally croaked, my voice hollow and mechanical, completely disconnected from the hurricane of emotions
raging inside me. I stared at Zoe with eyes that couldn’t quite focus, my lips forming a smile that felt more like a grimace.
“Just vertigo. No big deal.