"Ow…" I groaned, pressing a hand against the small of my back. The weight of my huge belly was unbearable, pressing down on my spine like a sack of bricks. Every time I stood, a sharp ache radiated upward, forcing me to pause and breathe through the pain. My OB/GYN had advised me to rest more, to take things easy, but rest was a luxury I could not afford.
I slowly rose from the bench in the clinic's waiting room, wincing as the muscles in my lower back protested. It was already past three in the afternoon, and panic fluttered in my chest. I needed to get home quickly—Xavier would be expecting brunch. The last time I'd delayed, his anger had been terrifying. I couldn't let that happen again.
Out on the street, the sun blazed down, hot enough to blur the edges of my vision. I hailed a cab with a weak wave, sliding into the back seat with a sigh of relief. The ride seemed short—too short. Perhaps I had dozed off, exhaustion swallowing me whole, because the driver's voice and the nudges of irritated passengers were what finally pulled me awake. My stop had come.
I stepped out, clutching my belly, and made my way toward the house. That was when my heart stopped.
The front door was wide open.
For a moment, I froze on the porch, my breath caught in my throat. A thousand scenarios rushed into my mind—had someone broken in? Was Xavier hurt? Was someone waiting inside with a weapon?
Cautiously, I staggered in, my pulse racing furiously in my ears. The living room looked untouched, but then I heard it. A sound. A moan.
I froze, my blood turning cold.
"Xavier?" I whispered, though my throat was so dry it came out cracked.
The sound grew clearer—pleading, breathy, unmistakable. Oh my God. My stomach churned. My knees buckled as words drifted through the air, slicing me open.
"Give it to me, Daddy."
Followed by the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.
"No…" I shook my head, whispering to myself. "No, it can't be…" My mind refused to believe what my body already knew. Some foolish, desperate part of me wanted another explanation, anything else—maybe the TV, maybe a nightmare I hadn't woken from.
But my feet moved on their own, dragging me up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. The noises grew louder, cruelly undeniable. My trembling hand pushed open the bedroom door.
The sight that greeted me stole the breath from my lungs.
Xavier was there my husband, the father of my children, naked, fucking another woman. His back arched with each thrust, his muscles tense, his expression unbothered. He looked at me. He saw me. And still… he did not stop.
The woman beneath him let out a theatrical moan, clinging to him as though she owned him, as though I did not exist.
My voice came out strangled, broken. "Xavier…?"
He snarled instead of apologizing, his eyes dark with fury rather than guilt. "What's wrong with you? Get out! I said get out and close my damn door on your way out!"
The world tilted beneath me. Tears blurred my vision, burning my cheeks as they streamed down unchecked. My chest heaved, but no words would come. I turned, stumbling out into the hallway like a ghost, shutting the door behind me as he commanded.
The moment I released the knob, my body betrayed me. A sharp cramp seized my lower back, so sudden and fierce that I doubled over. Pain shot through my abdomen, squeezing, twisting, making me gasp for air.
Something warm trickled down my thighs, soaking through my gown.
My water had broken.
"No… no, no, not now," I whimpered, clutching the railing for support. My knees buckled as another contraction slammed into me, fiercer than the last. I cried out, the sound torn from my throat, raw and desperate.
"Xavier!" My voice echoed through the house, hoarse and trembling. "Xavier, the baby—it's coming!"
Silence.
The pain came again, stronger, closer, like waves determined to drown me. I tried to crawl toward the stairs, my fingers clutching the cold wood of the banister, dragging myself inch by inch. My body shook violently, sweat dripping down my forehead as I cried, my breaths ragged and shallow.
Dark spots dotted my vision. My strength slipped away with every contraction, with every ounce of blood and water that left me.
"Please…" I whispered, though I didn't know if I was pleading with Xavier, with God, or with myself. My vision swam, the ceiling and floor trading places as my body surrendered to exhaustion and pain.
The last thing I saw before the world went black was the empty staircase before me, and the door to our bedroom still closed.