Chapter 7 Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Chapter 7
Chapter 7
SELENE

I pressed both hands against my stomach, feeling the slight swell that was just beginning. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "You deserve so much better than this."
The baby deserved parents who loved each other, or at least respected each other. It deserved a father who would be present, involved, caring. Not a man who saw it as another burden, another chain keeping him from the woman he really loved.
And I deserved better too.
The thought crystallized in my mind with sudden, startling clarity. I deserved better than this half-life, this shadow existence. I deserved to be someone's first choice, not their obligation. I deserved love, real love, not whatever hollow arrangement Derek and I had cobbled together.
But what could I do? I had no money of my own—everything came from Derek's accounts. I had no job, no income. I'd devoted the past two years to being the perfect wife, managing the household, attending charity functions, playing my role. I'd given up my independence, my identity, everything that had made me me before I became Mrs. Derek Sterling.
Leaving would require resources I didn't have. And with a baby on the way, I needed more than just a plan—I needed stability, security, a way to support myself and my child.
I needed money.
The thought felt dangerous and desperate, but also necessary. If I was going to leave, I needed to prepare. I needed to be smart about this, strategic. I couldn't just walk away with nothing, couldn't put my baby at risk because of pride or principle.
My mind started working through the logistics. Derek gave me an allowance for household expenses, for clothes and personal items. Could I start saving from that? Hiding away small amounts that he wouldn't notice?
There was also jewelry—expensive pieces he'd given me for birthdays and anniversaries, gifts that felt more like payment for services rendered than expressions of affection. Could I sell some of those? Quietly, discreetly?
And then there was the prenuptial agreement we'd signed before the wedding. I'd barely looked at it, too heartbroken and overwhelmed at the time to care about the details. Rosalie had insisted on it, wanting to protect Derek's inheritance. But surely there were provisions for divorce, for separation. I needed to find that document, needed to understand exactly what I was entitled to if I left.
The planning gave me something to focus on, something other than the crushing weight of my grief. I picked myself up off the floor, rinsed out my water glass, and made my way back upstairs.
The bedroom was dark when I entered. Derek was already in bed, his breathing deep and even. Asleep, or pretending to be. I climbed in on my side, maintaining the careful distance we always kept.
But my mind was racing now, spinning through possibilities and scenarios. I'd need to be patient, careful. I couldn't let Derek or Rosalie suspect anything. I'd need to play my role perfectly—the dutiful wife, the loving granddaughter-in-law. Smile at the gala, wear the beautiful dress, stand by Derek's side while he and Jasmine exchanged longing glances across the ballroom.
And while I was playing that role, I'd be preparing my exit.
The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it felt like the first real breath I'd taken in months. Like waking up from a nightmare to find the morning light streaming through the windows.
I wasn't trapped. Not really. I just needed time, needed resources, needed a plan. And I was smart enough, strong enough, to make it happen.
My parents had raised me to be resilient. They'd taught me to face challenges head-on, to never give up even when things seemed impossible. They'd died saving Derek's life, and Rosalie had taken me in out of gratitude and love. But that didn't mean I owed Derek my entire existence. That didn't mean I had to sacrifice my happiness, my child's future, on the altar of obligation.
I placed my hand over my stomach again, making a silent promise. "I'll get us out of here," I whispered. "I'll find a way to give you a better life. I swear it."
Beside me, Derek shifted in his sleep, mumbling something I couldn't make out. For a moment, I felt a pang of something—not quite sympathy, but a recognition of shared unhappiness. He was trapped too, in his own way. Trapped by duty and gratitude, forced into a marriage he'd never wanted.
But that didn't excuse the way he treated me. And it didn't change what I needed to do.
Tomorrow, I'd start. I'd go through my jewelry, figure out what I could sell without Derek noticing. I'd start putting aside money from my allowance, creating a secret account he didn't know about. I'd find that prenuptial agreement and read every word, looking for loopholes, for protections, for anything that might give me leverage.
And I'd do it all while wearing a smile, while playing the perfect wife, while preparing for the gala where I'd have to stand beside the man who loved someone else and pretend my heart wasn't breaking.
The irony wasn't lost on me—I'd spent two years trying to win Derek's love, and now I'd spend the next however-many-months trying to leave him. But this time, I wasn't doing it for him. I was doing it for me, and for the baby growing inside me.
This time, I was choosing myself.
As exhaustion finally claimed me, my last thought was of my parents. They'd sacrificed everything for Derek, had given their lives to save his. And I'd spent two years trying to honor that sacrifice by making their arranged marriage work.
But maybe the best way to honor them was to live. Really live. To choose happiness over obligation, love over duty. To show their grandchild that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is walk away.
"I love you," I whispered into the darkness, not to the man sleeping beside me, but to the memory of the parents I'd lost. "Thank you for teaching me to be strong. I'm going to need it."
And then, finally, I slept.