REINA
The door to our apartnt felt heavier than usual as I pushed it open. The silence that greeted was deafening. No lights on. No scent of Paolo’s cologne lingering in the air. Just emptiness. I stood there in the doorway for a long mont, still wearing Donico’s oversized shirt beneath his coat like so shaful secret branded into my skin. My body ached in ways that reminded of every touch, every thrust, every whispered promise from the night before. And Paolo wasn’t here.
He still wasn’t back.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips, but it quickly dissolved into sothing closer to a sob. Today was the day after our wedding anniversary. The night he had vomited on during what was supposed to be an intimate mont—our attempt to reconnect—and then he’d left there, half-naked and humiliated, without so much as a word. No calls. No ssages. Nothing. He had abandoned in the worst possible way and hadn’t even bothered to check if I was okay.
I dropped my bag on the floor and kicked off my shoes, the tile cold against my bare feet. "Where the hell are you, Paolo?" I whispered into the quiet apartnt. Unhappiness settled deep in my chest, heavy and suffocating. I had needed him last night. I had needed my husband to pull back from the edge Donico had pushed over. Instead, he had practically thrown into Donico’s arms with his absence.
Guilt clawed at my throat as mories flooded in. The way Donico had touched . The things I had begged for. The way I had ridden him, crying and moaning like I belonged to him. I hadn’t wanted any of it again. I had sworn to myself it would never happen again. But Paolo’s disappearance had left a void, and Donico had filled it so completely.
I couldn’t think about that right now. If I did, I would break.
My legs carried to the bathroom on autopilot. I flicked on the light and stared at the small white stick sitting on the edge of the sink—the pregnancy test I had dipped into my urine late last night before rushing out to Donico’s building in a haze of panic. I had been too terrified to look at it then. Too scared of what the universe might be punishing with.
My hands shook violently as I picked it up.
Two pink lines.
Clear. Undeniable. Positive.
The world tilted beneath . A raw, guttural sob tore from my chest as I sank to the bathroom floor, the test clutched in my trembling fingers. "No... God, no..." Tears stread down my face, hot and endless. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.
I was pregnant.
And deep in my fractured heart, I knew it wasn’t Paolo’s.
The realization crushed . I curled into myself, forehead pressed against the cold tile as violent sobs wracked my body. "What have I done?" I cried out loud, my voice breaking. "What the fuck have I done to us? To myself?"
Images flashed through my mind—Donico’s gentle mouth on my heavy, aching breasts this morning. The way he had fed breakfast like I was sothing precious. The changes in my body I had tried to ignore. The vomiting. The strange cravings. The emotional storms. It all made horrible, perfect sense now.
I was carrying Donico’s child.
The guilt was suffocating. Paolo hadn’t even properly touched before so I couldn’t even lie to myself that this was his. And now... now I had destroyed everything in one reckless, weak night after another. I had let Donico claim again and again while my husband was God-knows-where.
With shaking hands, I grabbed my phone and dialed Paolo’s number. It rang. And rang. And rang. Straight to voicemail.
"Paolo, please pick up," I whispered desperately after the beep, my voice thick with tears. "I need you. I need to talk to you. Sothing happened... I... I made a terrible mistake. Please co ho. I’m so sorry. I love you. Just... co back to . Please."
I hung up and imdiately called again. Voicemail. Again and again. Each unanswered ring felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest. He wasn’t there. The one person who was supposed to anchor had left completely adrift.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I needed soone. Anyone.
My fingers found Calestino’s number before my brain could catch up. He answered on the second ring.
"Reina? What’s wrong?" His voice was instantly alert, laced with concern.
I broke down completely, sobbing into the phone. "Calestino... I’m pregnant."
Silence on the other end for a heartbeat. Then, softly, "Reina..."
"I don’t know what to do," I cried, the words pouring out like a dam had burst. "I took the test last night and checked the result this morning. It’s positive. But Paolo isn’t ho. He left last night after... after he got sick on during our anniversary. He hasn’t called. Hasn’t texted. And I... I slept with Donico again. I didn’t want to, but I was weak and lonely and now I’m carrying his baby. I’m pregnant with another man’s child while my husband is gone. How do I tell him? How do I fix this? I’ve ruined everything. Everything!"
My voice cracked into ugly, heaving sobs. I felt so small. So dirty. So completely lost.
"Reina, breathe," Calestino said gently, though I could hear the shock in his tone. "Take a deep breath for . I’m here. You’re not alone in this. I’m not going to let you get hurt, okay? Just trust and calm down for now, okay?"
"But I am alone," I whispered brokenly. "Paolo isn’t here. He pushed toward this without even knowing it. And now there’s a baby... Donico’s baby... growing inside . I can feel my body changing already. My breasts are so heavy and sensitive. I vomited this morning. I have these insane cravings. And I hate myself so much. I hate what I’ve beco."
Tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I rocked back and forth on the bathroom floor, clutching the positive test like it was evidence of my cris.
"I was supposed to be a good wife," I choked out. "We were supposed to have our own family. And now... now I’m trapped. Donico looked at this morning like I already belonged to him completely. Like he knew. What if he finds out? What if Paolo finds out? I don’t know what to do, Calestino. I’m so scared. I’m terrified. I should have listened to you... I should have stopped having sex with Donico. This is my fault.."
The line was quiet for a mont before he spoke again, his voice full of careful empathy. "We’ll figure this out. You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself. But you need to breathe. For the baby’s sake, if nothing else."
The baby.
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks as I placed a trembling hand over my still-flat stomach. A tiny life was in there. Innocent. Unknowing. Conceived in sin and weakness and forbidden pleasure.
"I don’t deserve this," I whispered. "I don’t deserve any of it. Or maybe I do deserve it... I don’t even know. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I wish this is not real. I wish this is just a dream."
But it was happening anyway.
And as I sat there on the cold floor, broken and terrified, I realized the worst part wasn’t the positive test or Paolo’s absence.
It was the small, dark part of that wondered what Donico would do when he eventually found out.
And whether a part of was already too attached to ever truly run away.
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