"What did you just say… you're pregnant?"
There was no anger in John's eyes. No hatred either. Just a chilling coldness—like she was an unwelcome stranger standing before him.
A news that should've brought a smile to his face instead met with emotionless silence.
With tears in her eyes, Lyra softly said, "Yes, John… a symbol of our love. Our baby."
Her voice trembled with happiness, her eyes gleaming with joy.
She had taken the pregnancy test secretly—three times. Each result had been positive.
But John looked at her with disgust and said coldly, "Whose sin is this? Whose child are you trying to force on me?"
The joy that once lit up Lyra's face disappeared instantly. Her own husband was accusing her, without hesitation. Her chest tightened, her eyes burned, and she felt her hands turn cold. Still, gathering courage, she asked—
"What… what are you trying to say, John?"
"Exactly what you're pretending not to understand. Don't act innocent in front of me, Lyra," he said, his voice thick with disdain.
"Acting? You think my questions are an act? I genuinely don't understand what you're accusing me of," Lyra replied in shock.
"Do you think I'm a fool? What's going on between you and Tia? I know everything—how low you've stooped." John looked at her with disgust and turned his face away.
Tia—her college friend. Someone who often visited their house now. Lyra had never imagined John would twist it all this way.
"You've lost your mind, John. I love you! And how can you accuse me like this? Do I really seem like that kind of woman to you?" Lyra asked, trying to defend herself.
John laughed—a cold, cruel laugh.
> "I only married you to protect my image. You were for my mother, not for my life. I don't care who you are or what you do."
"There's nothing in your heart for me, John?" Her voice trembled. After all, they had been together for two years. This man was her husband. Could it really be that his heart never beat for her?
"Get out. From this moment on, there's no relationship between us. A woman like you could never touch my heart. Just leave my house."
John said with no trace of mercy.
"Leave? Where will I go? I have nothing, no one but you, John. And now… now I have this little life growing inside me."
Lyra was in complete shock. How could he so easily ask her to leave? Didn't he even care about the child?
"Neither you nor this child has anything to do with me. I let you stay here all these years for free, but not anymore. Get out!"
John grabbed her wrist tightly.
"I won't go anywhere, John. And if you try to force me, I'll file a complaint against you!"
Lyra pulled her hand back, speaking with determination.
John stared at her for a moment, then burst into laughter—mocking, heartless laughter.
"You'll file a complaint? Fine! Go ahead! But what will you tell them, exactly?"
His laughter confused her. She was threatening him—but instead of being afraid, he was laughing.
"I'm your wife. I have legal rights. You can't just throw me out of this house!"
Lyra tried again, though her heart was warning her—something wasn't right.
And then the bomb dropped.
John composed himself and replied, "You are not my wife, Lyra. You have no legal rights now. So get out."
"W-What are you saying? Our divorce—?"
Lyra's voice shook. But before she could finish, John pulled a folded paper from his pocket and held it out to her.
"Divorce papers."
Lyra's eyes widened in shock. Even more shocking was the signature on those papers—her own. But she had never signed anything like that.
Before she could question him, John snatched the papers from her hands and folded them again.
"Surprised to see your signature? Well, you signed them yourself… willingly."
John smirked sarcastically.
"But I never signed such papers, John!"
She stammered in disbelief.
"Oh, you did. A few days ago, remember? You signed the 'property papers'—but in reality, they were divorce documents."
John grinned, proud of his deceit.
"You tricked me, John. You deceived me."
Lyra stammered again.
"Doesn't matter how it happened. We're done now. So get out!"
He grabbed her arm again.
"But—!"
Even now, Lyra hoped he might show some mercy—for the sake of the baby. But John, without any compassion, dragged her to the door.
He shoved her out, and right at the entrance, he gave orders to the guards and staff:
"This woman has no relationship with this house anymore. She's not allowed in again."
---
No clothes. No phone. No money. Nothing.
Lyra was homeless.
She had considered this marriage sacred. But it had become a curse on her life.
That night, rain poured over the entire city—
And inside her too.
She touched her belly with trembling hands, the cold cutting into her bones.
He ended her story without mercy.
But he didn't know—this broken bride would rise again.
-----