Chapter 3
That night, Dorian and I lay back-to-back in silence, neither of us willing to break it first. My belly had grown so large that it often made breathing difficult. I shifted uncomfortably, hoping Dorian might lend a hand with the oxygen tank. Sometimes, a few breaths of oxygen were the only relief. As I turned over, I caught sight of Dorian sitting against the headboard, texting Celestia on WhatsApp. Their conversation seemed lively, and his smile felt like a dagger to my heart.
I didn’t know what they were discussing until he suddenly glanced at me. I quickly closed my eyes, feigning sleep, and then heard him turn off the bedroom light and leave the room. He assumed I was oblivious, believing I couldn’t notice, which is why he acted so brazenly. Once he left, I followed.
Celestia’s room had the door slightly open. Standing outside, I watched Dorian carefully applying body lotion to her belly. Suddenly, she rose and kissed him. He grasped her hand, his breath heavy. “Celestia, don’t. You’re pregnant.”
“It’s okay, Dorian. The doctor said we’re safe if we’re careful,” Celestia said, tugging her nightgown strap down. “Don’t you want me? During those five years abroad, I thought about you every day. If I hadn’t tried sneaking back home to find you that night, I wouldn’t have been…”
She started crying, and Dorian kissed her eyes gently. “Let’s not talk about it, Celestia. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” As emotions flared, they couldn’t hold back any longer, becoming entwined. Watching this unfold, I covered my mouth, tears escaping through my fingers.
How could I believe that the man I loved for fifteen years, the husband I’d been with for five, could be with another pregnant woman while I carried our child for eight months? Shaking my head, I stumbled backward in disbelief, accidentally knocking a vase by the door.
The noise halted the man on the bed. “What was that?”
“Why are you worried? Are you afraid it’s Amara? Have you forgotten she can’t see? Even if she came over, she wouldn’t catch us!”
“But…”
Dorian nodded, glancing at the darkened doorway, a sense of unease settling in. Amara couldn’t see, but she could hear. Would she be heartbroken if she heard?
“Dorian, what’s on your mind?” Celestia turned his head towards her, forcing eye contact. “Are you thinking about Amara? I won’t allow it.” She leaned in to kiss him again.
Dorian felt like he was losing his grip. Why was he thinking of that woman when everything seemed fine? Back then, if she hadn’t trapped him into staying, would they even have a child?
That night, I hardly remembered how I returned to my room. My stomach ached fiercely, and after taking some medication to stabilize the pregnancy, I felt slightly better. I had resolved that once the baby was born, I would leave. I no longer held any attachment to Dorian. All I hoped for now was for the child within me to be born safely. In the divorce, I would ask for nothing except this child.
The next morning, I went downstairs for breakfast. Thea, the housekeeper, placed the expensive herbal tea meant for me in front of Celestia, giving me a regular cup of coffee instead. They assumed I couldn’t see or taste the difference. I said nothing, taking only a few sips before stopping.
“Good morning, Amara. Up early, are you?” Celestia came downstairs, taking a seat beside me. She taunted, “Unlike you, I’m not an early riser. I was up all night and feel completely worn out this morning.”
I noticed the marks on her neck—red and pronounced. From these signs alone, it was obvious how intense last night had been.