chapter 1

Isabella's POV

I stared at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test, my heart hammering against my ribcage. After anxiously waiting for three minutes.

"I'm pregnant," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.

My hands trembled with excitement as I clutched the plastic stick. This moment, I had waited for it so long. Ever since I held that tattered rag doll in my first foster home, the dream of motherhood had taken deep root in my heart. And now, at thirty, that dream was finally about to come true.

I rushed out of the bathroom, still holding the test as if it might disappear if I let go. Brian was sprawled on our couch, scrolling through his phone.

"Brian! Brian, I'm pregnant!" My voice breaking with emotion.

He looked up, his expression freezing for a moment. Something flickered in his eyes – like mockery, or perhaps panic, but it vanished instantly. Then he smiled and opened his arms.

"What? Are you sure?" he asked, his voice oddly controlled.

"Yes! Look!" I thrust the test in front of his face. "Two lines! We're having a baby!"

I searched his face for the joy I expected, but something seemed... off. His smile didn't reach his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my own smile faltering.

"Nothing, babe. Nothing at all." He squeezed my shoulders. "I'm just... shocked. I'm really happy!"

I threw my arms around him, too caught up in my own excitement to dwell on his strange reaction. "We need to go to the doctor right away to confirm. I'll call first thing tomorrow!"

That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept placing my hand on my still-flat stomach, imagining the tiny life growing inside me. My baby. Our baby. The family I'd never had but always wanted.

The next morning, I went to the hospital alone. Brian said he had an important meeting he couldn't miss, but I didn't mind. The joy of the moment was enough to sustain me through anything.

But as I sat in that sterile exam room, my world began to crumble.

"Ms. Morgan," Dr. Miller adjusted her glasses, her tone gentle yet heavy. "The blood test shows that you are not pregnant."

"That's impossible," I protested loudly. "I took a home test. It was positive!"

"Home tests can give false positives for several reasons," she explained. "Medication, evaporation lines, even just reading it after the recommended time window."

I shook my head, refusing to accept it. "No, there must be some mistake. Run the test again."

"What's worse," she continued, "your hormone panel shows your ovarian reserve is severely depleted. This is very rare for someone your age."

"What?" I murmured, I'm only 30, I should have plenty of eggs left.

"Given the current situation, if you want to conceive naturally, you may only have one last chance. You must get pregnant before your next ovulation cycle begins."

The words hit me like knives. May be your last good chance. After years of dreaming, preparing, waiting for the right time... I was running out of time?

"But Brian and I have been having unprotected sex for years," I said quietly. "Why haven't I gotten pregnant before?"

Dr. Miller frowned. "That is unusual. Perhaps we should run some tests on your partner as well?"

I nodded mechanically, my mind racing. I needed to tell Brian right away. Maybe we could do IVF? Freeze whatever eggs I had left? There had to be options.

I rushed toward home almost out of control, my heart beating so fast it nearly jumped out of my chest. Countless thoughts flashed through my mind: maybe I should prepare a cozy dinner, light candles, make this heavy night less desperate. Even with bad news, I wanted to tell Brian in the gentlest way possible.

But as I approached our apartment building, the familiar silver sedan was conspicuously parked below. He's home early. A momentary relief was quickly replaced by an inexplicable unease.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, the air smelled slightly different than usual. Opening the door, just as I was about to call for Brian, I spotted a pair of high heels and a handbag by the door that didn't belong to me.

My heart sank. A soft moan drifted from our bedroom, followed by a masculine grunt I recognized all too well.

No. No, this isn't happening.

I should have turned around. Should have walked right back out that door and never returned. But some masochistic instinct propelled me forward, my feet moving silently across the carpet.

The bedroom door was cracked open. Through the gap, I saw them.

Brian's naked body glistened with sweat as he thrust forcefully between spread legs. Following those legs upward, I was shocked to see Jessica Lawrence. My best friend since college.

"Please... oh god..." Jessica whimpered, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her neck arched. "I can't..."

Brian gripped her thigh, hiking it higher. "Shh, baby. Just take it. Take all of it," he growled, his voice rough with desire I'd rarely heard directed at me.

I stood frozen, unable to look away from the nightmare unfolding before me.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Brian panted. "So much better than Isabella."

Jessica moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Then why do you stay with her?"

"She's pretty enough to show off," Brian laughed between thrusts. "And easy to manage. That idiot told me yesterday she was pregnant. Like that's even possible."

My blood ran cold.

"Why couldn't it be real?" Jessica gasped as he pushed deeper.

"Been slipping birth control into her morning coffee for years," he said with a cruel chuckle. "She never noticed. Stupid."

The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet. Birth control? For years? The doctor's words echoed in my mind: unusually low egg count for your age. I placed my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob.

"Stop talking about her," Jessica whined. "Look at me."

"You're right, baby. Who cares about her anyway?"

Who cares about her? The man I'd loved for five years. The friend I'd confided in about my deepest hopes and fears. Neither of them cared.

The unexplained infertility. My diminishing chances at motherhood. My last hope of having a child—stolen by the person who was supposed to love me.

Tears blurred my vision, but my hand moved with surprising steadiness. I reached for the fire alarm on the wall and pulled it hard.

The shrill, piercing wail filled the apartment. Through the doorway, I watched them scramble in panic, sheets tangling around their naked bodies, curses flying from their lips.

At that moment, only one clear thought formed in my mind: I will become a mother. No matter what it takes.