Chapter 73 Chapter Seventy-three

Chapter 73 Chapter Seventy-three
CHAPTER 73

Although Damian had done everything within his power to shield Aria from the harsh judgments of the outside world, he was realizing, too late, that he couldn't protect her from the quiet warfare happening under his own roof.

Evelyn’s approach had become increasingly suffocating. She wasn't openly cruel; she never raised her voice, and she never resorted to outright insults. Instead, she wielded a weapon far more exhausting: a relentless stream of corrections wrapped in polite exhaustion.

"The lilies belong in the east parlor, Aria, not here."

"Shoulders back, dear. A Cross carries herself with presence."

"A proper wife should anticipate the household needs without a checklist."

"These are only small adjustments, Aria. Surely you can manage."

Small. That was the word Evelyn always chose. It was a clever defense, making any complaint look petty. But when dozens of these "small" remarks chipped away at a person every single day, they stopped feeling minor. They accumulated into a heavy, crushing weight.

Aria never complained. She didn't whisper a word to Damian, nor did she vent to Lucy or seek comfort from Ms. Fletcher. She simply offered a faint, compliant smile and carried the burden silently.

Until one heavy Tuesday afternoon.

Aria sat alone on a low wooden stool in the unfinished nursery. Damian had started preparing the room the moment they found out, but it was still a work in progress. One wall remained bare, waiting for a mural they hadn't chosen yet. The crib was still on backorder, and the floor was littered with swatches of pastel paint and fabric samples.

Resting a palm over her stomach, she let out a long, trembling breath that felt like it had been trapped in her chest for days.

"This was supposed to be a happy time," she whispered to the quiet room, her voice cracking slightly.

Instead, she felt like an uninvited guest overstaying her welcome in her own home.

The door clicked open behind her. Lucy slipped into the room, balancing two steaming ceramic mugs. "I had a feeling I’d find you hiding out in here," she said gently, crossing the room to hand Aria a mug before settling onto the floor beside her.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. The warmth of the tea radiated against their hands while the afternoon sun cut through the tall windows.

Finally, Lucy nudged her arm. "You're trapped in your own head again."

Aria offered a fragile, weary smile. "Is it really that obvious?"

"You've been a ghost all day, Aria. Talk to me."

Aria looked up, staring at the empty wall where the baby's dresser was supposed to go. "Lucy... do you think some people are just built to be outsiders? No matter how hard they try?" She swallowed past a lump in her throat. "No matter how deeply they love someone?"

Lucy’s expression shifted into a protective frown. "Is Evelyn getting to you again?"

Aria didn't answer, but the way her gaze dropped to her lap was answer enough.

Lucy let out a sharp sigh, setting her mug down. "Have you talked to Damian about this?"

"No. I can't."

"Why not? He's your husband."

"Because he’ll defend me, Lucy. He always does," Aria said, her voice dropping. "And in this house, that just makes the target on my back bigger. It will make everything worse."

Lucy reached out, squeezing Aria’s hand tightly. "You can't just swallow this. It’s going to eat you alive."

Aria looked down at the diamond band on her left hand, watching the sunlight catch the edges of the stone. "I’ve been thinking a lot lately... maybe marrying him was a mistake."

Lucy jolted, her eyes going wide. "What did you just say?"

"I’m serious, Lucy."

"Aria, stop it. You don't mean that."

"I love him," Aria insisted, a hot tear finally spilling over and tracking down her cheek. "I love him so much it hurts. But ever since we made this official, his family has been fracturing. Selene, Evelyn, Mr. Voss... it’s a constant battle. It never ends, and I am the common denominator. Maybe if I wasn't in the picture.."

"Don't do that," Lucy interrupted, grabbing both of her hands now. "Don't you dare blame yourself for their dysfunction."

"I don't want Damian to have to choose between his mother and his wife."

"He won't have to."

"He already is," Aria whispered, looking away. "I've even thought about... giving him an out."

Lucy stared at her, terrified of the answer. "An out? Meaning what, Aria?"

Aria closed her eyes tightly, forcing out the words before she lost her nerve. "...About asking him for a divorce."

The word felt dirty, hanging like a fog in the unfinished nursery.

"You are out of your mind," Lucy said, standing up abruptly because she couldn't sit still under the weight of that statement. "You can't be serious. You would actually walk away from the man who literally crossed half the city through a storm to save your life?"

"He deserves a life that isn't constant warfare," Aria argued softly. "He deserves peace."

"And what about what he wants? Did you bother to ask him?"

Aria remained stubbornly quiet.

Lucy rubbed her temples, letting out a frustrated breath. "You have to tell him how much you're hurting. Right now."

"I can't."

"You must."

"I think she should," a deep, quiet voice cut through the room.