Chapter Two — The Cost of Loving a Noah
The morning light that filtered through the bedroom curtains felt colder than usual. Astrid stood by the window, watching the city wake up—cars honking, people rushing, the hum of life moving on without her.
Her hand rested unconsciously on her belly, still small but growing—a quiet promise of the life she carried. Their child. Hers and Asher's.
It should have been a moment of joy.
Instead, it felt like standing at the edge of a storm.
Asher entered the room quietly, the soft rustle of his shirt sleeves drawing her attention. He looked exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, jaw tense, phone clutched in one hand.
She turned to face him. "You didn't come to bed last night."
"I was with my father," he said simply, setting the phone down. "We had… discussions."
Astrid swallowed hard. "Discussions about what?"
He hesitated—a fraction too long.
Then, "About the company. About us."
The pause between the words was sharp enough to cut through her chest.
"Asher," she said softly, "what did they say this time?"
He met her eyes, and for the first time in their marriage, she saw something unfamiliar in them. Guilt.
"My father doesn't believe…" He stopped, running a hand through his hair. "He doesn't believe you're right for the family. For the name."
Astrid forced a small, bitter smile. "He's said that before."
"This time is different," Asher said quietly. "They've given me a choice."
Her heart stilled. "A choice?"
He nodded once. "If I stay married to you, I lose the inheritance. The company. Everything my father built."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Astrid's voice came out in a whisper. "And if you don't?"
He closed his eyes. "Then I have to… end this. End us."
The words hit her like a slap.
For a long time, she couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Her chest rose and fell too fast, her fingers trembling as they clutched her robe tighter.
"When we married," she said finally, voice shaking, "you told me love was enough."
"It was," he said hoarsely. "It is. But love doesn't save everything, Astrid. It doesn't protect us from the world we live in."
Her laugh was soft, broken. "No. It just makes it hurt more."
He stepped closer, but she flinched away.
"Asher, tell me," she whispered. "Was it ever about me? Or was it about defying them?"
His silence was her answer.
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she turned away, staring out at the skyline that suddenly felt like a cage.
Downstairs, she could hear the faint echo of voices—Mrs. Noah's sharp tone, the delicate murmur of another woman's laughter.
Lily Jones.
The girl his family approved of. The girl with the perfect lineage, perfect manners, perfect pedigree.
Astrid pressed a hand to her stomach, whispering to the tiny heartbeat within her.
"I won't let them take you from me."
When she finally turned back, Asher was gone.
Only the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air—a memory of a love that was already starting to fade.
Outside, rain began to fall again, just like the day they met.
Only this time, no one reached out to catch her.