Chapter 11: Chapter 11.

Jane’s POV

I was so furious, I could feel my body steaming.

That was the only thing that mattered to him—His child. Not me, never me.

Every reason he ever found to hurt me, every cruel word, every cold look, it always came back to the same excuse—His child. As if I was nothing more than a vessel carrying something precious, while I myself was disposable.

I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to breathe. The only reason I was agreeing to go with him today was because of his mother. She had been nothing but kind to me from the very first day I stepped into this family. She's been warm, gentle, attentive in ways Adrian had never bothered to be. She was the closest thing I had ever known to a real mother. Mine had given her life for me. I never even got to meet her.

That thought softened the sharpness in my chest just a little.

Standing before the mirror, I studied my reflection, my anger slowly dissolving into something quieter, sadder.

I was… beautiful. I knew that much. Not in an arrogant way, but in a painfully honest one. Big brown eyes framed by long lashes. Clear, milk-toned skin. Soft lips. An hourglass figure I’d learned to hide under modest clothes. Long brown hair that fell easily down my back when I let it. Everything a man in his right senses would adore. Yet the man I called my husband had never noticed, not once. Not even in the early days, when I’d still hoped, when I’d still tried.

With a sigh, I slipped into a simple floral pink dress, nothing dramatic, nothing attention-seeking. Just soft cotton against my skin. I tied my hair into a low ponytail, adjusted my glasses, and looked at myself one last time.

There was no need to doll myself up. For whom would I even do that for?

Satisfied, or maybe just resigned, I stepped out of the bathroom.

He was already there, sat on the sofa, dressed immaculately as always, his attention locked onto his phone. His posture was relaxed, powerful, like a man who owned every space he occupied without effort.

He was working, I knew that, but still… I couldn’t stop staring. And I hated myself for it.

This man hurt me with everything he did, with his words, his silences, his indifference, and yet he still had the audacity to steal my breath away.

My gaze traced him slowly, traitorously. From his perfectly styled jet-black hair to his sharply defined face. Hazel eyes. High nose. Thin lips that rarely softened for me. Broad shoulders filling out his tailored suit, a body carved by discipline and control.

I caught myself and looked away, my heart pounding.

Get a grip, Jane.

My foolish heart had embarrassed me enough already.

As if sensing my presence, Adrian finally lifted his head. His eyes flicked over me, brief, and assessing, then he stood up without a word. No compliment, no acknowledgment. He simply turned and walked toward the door.

I rolled my eyes. Would it actually hurt him to speak? To be… civil? Human?

Outside, he paused beside the car, clearly waiting for me, but I ignored him and walked around to the other side, opening the door myself and getting in.

Petty? Maybe. Satisfying? A little.

He got in moments later, the door shutting with a quiet thud. The car rolled forward smoothly, John driving as silently as ever.

Minutes passed in thick silence, then Adrian spoke. “Stop at the jewelry store.”

John nodded immediately. “Yes, sir.”

I didn’t bother asking why. It was obvious, he plans to give a gift to his mother. He never forgot her. Never missed an opportunity to show up perfectly, thoughtfully, dutifully. The irony almost made me laugh. He knew how to love, he just chose not to direct it at me.

The car pulled to a stop in front of an upscale jewelry store. Adrian stepped out without looking at me. “Wait here,” he said.

I did.

Through the glass, I watched him interact with the staff confidently, polite, even smiling. A smile I rarely saw, one that didn’t belong to me.

When he returned, a small velvet bag was in his hand, and then we drove on.

The closer we got to his parents’ house, the tighter my chest felt. I straightened my dress, suddenly nervous in a way I didn’t want to admit. Being with them always reminded me of what I could have had, what a family was supposed to feel like.

The estate gates opened, and the car glided in. The house stood grand and welcoming, sunlight spilling across its white walls and wide steps. It looked like warmth lived here, like laughter had once echoed freely.

As soon as we stepped out of the car, Adrian walked to me, and stopped me from walking.

From the velvet bag, he pulled out a small velvet box. I could only watch him and wonder what he was trying to do.

Flipping the box open, it contained a golden ring with a crystal on it. It was identical to my wedding ring. The ring I swore I would never take off, but did anyway, thanks to him.

He took the ring from the box and taking my hand softly, he slid the ring slowly down my finger. I didn't know why but it stirred up a nostalgic feeling in me. Memories of my wedding flashed before me, and my eyes welled up.

With the ring sitting perfectly on my finger, he raised his head and looked at me. My heart skipped a beat as we locked gazes. His gaze was the same, giving no expressions or emotions, but still I couldn't stop my heart from leaping.

“It would stir up questions, if you're seen without your wedding ring. They'd definitely notice, and they'd ask why so let's avoid that,” he said, and everything came to a pause, pain coming in with full force.

I moved my hand away from his, and scoffed, the tears threatening hard to roll over. I knew exactly why he had put the ring back on me but saying it to my face? It was heartbreaking.

“And your original ring has its crystal fractured from the fall you made it had that day,” he added, reminding me of the very thing I wanted to forget—the moment I caught him cheating on me in his office with Lydia.

In fury mixed with pain, I propelled myself forward to the house. He caught up with me soon enough and didn't say a word to me, didn't apologize.

As soon as we stepped inside, his mother appeared. “Jane, my dear!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a gentle hug before I could even speak.

Her arms wrapped around me like safety itself, warm and familiar, and just like that, the tight knot in my chest loosened. I inhaled her familiar scent—lavender and something sweet, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to lean into it.

“Hello, Mom,” I murmured softly.

She pulled back just enough to cup my face, her eyes scanning me with concern. “You look thinner. Are you eating well?”

“Yes,” I replied quickly, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

Her gaze dropped instinctively to my stomach, and her smile softened even more. She placed a gentle hand there, reverent, protective. “We'll get there soon, don't worry,” she said warmly.

I wanted to tell her that we were there already, but he beat me to it. “She's pregnant,” he dropped the shell plainly.