Chapter 139 Chapter 139
My breathing became shallow as memories forced their way back without permission: hospital lights, doctors speaking carefully, and Zaiel holding my hand while pretending to be calm even when terror lived behind his eyes. I pressed trembling fingers against my stomach instinctively as if touch alone could keep everything safe.
It was barely anything, just faint spotting, something forums and doctors always claimed could be normal, but normal stopped meaning comfort after loss. Normal lied before.
I heard Zaiel downstairs speaking on a call, his voice steady and controlled, discussing business like the world still followed predictable rules while mine tilted dangerously off balance. I cleaned everything carefully, flushing evidence before washing my hands twice until they stopped shaking.
He couldn’t know, not yet. If this ended the same way again, I refused to make him live through hope first. I walked back into the bedroom, forcing calm into my movements, and sat at the vanity pretending to check emails while quietly counting breaths until my heartbeat slowed. A few minutes later he came in, removing his jacket, his attention landing on me instantly.
“You okay?” he asked.
"Yeah, just tired."
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately," he said. I smiled faintly, keeping my tone light.
“Recovery takes time."
He watched me longer than comfortable and crossed the room, resting his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs brushing gently along my neck. “Your skin feels warm," he said.
“Probably stress," I lied. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against my temple, lingering slightly like instinct told him something wasn’t right.
“Why don't you go out with Mom tomorrow?” he said.
I shook my head yes. His mouth curved slightly, though concern remained.
“Okay, just try to relax; maybe the cousins will join," he said.
I laughed softly, hoping "normal" sounded believable. "Maybe, but they are chaos incarnate," I said. That earned a small huff from him, and for a moment tension eased enough that guilt stabbed sharply through me because lying never felt this heavy before.
He trusted me completely, and I was hiding something that could destroy both of us.
The bleeding stopped by morning, and relief came cautiously, fragile and temporary but enough for me to convince myself everything was fine. I dressed carefully, choosing loose clothing and avoiding mirrors longer than necessary because seeing my own reflection made everything feel more real. Security followed routine as usual, with Carlo driving while giving a polite nod through the mirror.
“Where to today, ma’am?” Carlo asked.
“The Rhyland Manor”
"Yes," he said.
My voice sounded steady even though anxiety twisted constantly beneath my ribs. When Carlo pulled up to the house, Alina was outside. Before I could get out, the door opened, and she got in. She directed Carlo to a cafe.
When we got there, we sat and had a quiet brunch. That distracted me for a while, pulling my attention away from the fear until a dull ache started low in my abdomen, subtle but familiar enough to send dread creeping back.
I shifted in my chair pretending comfort while focusing on breathing normally. It’s nothing, just stress, just nerves. I repeated it silently while having my breakfast. Alina didn’t notice. After eating, Alina moved and came around the table and took my hand in hers.
“Sometimes things happen. Nothing changes. You’re still Tessa, kids or no kids. You’ll be okay. “She said.
“I feel like a failure," I whispered.
“I had some miscarriages earlier in our marriage, and at one point I gave up too. It's normal; maybe it’s not meant to happen at this moment but will happen eventually.” She said.
We spent the day together; she took me to get pampered just so I could relax and unwind. It was a day well spent, but as we were about to leave the salon, I felt it—the pain in my lower back—and it made me panic slightly.
The ride home felt endless; every bump in the road made anxiety spike, and by the time we reached the house, my hands started trembling again. Dad looked up from the garden when I entered, wiping soil from his palms.
“You look pale, kiddo," he said.
“Just tired, Dad; I had a long day of pampering with my mother-in-law."
He studied me carefully, concern soft but knowing. “You’re pushing yourself too hard again," he said.
"Maybe." He nodded, accepting the answer, though his gaze lingered like he sensed more.
That evening pain returned sharper this time, not unbearable but enough to make breathing uneven while I sat curled slightly on the bed pretending to scroll through my phone. Zaiel noticed immediately.
“You’re in pain," he said, and I shook my head quickly.
“Just cramps," I said. His expression hardened slightly.
“From what?” he asked. I hesitated too long.
“Tessa?” he said, his tone quiet, the warning lived quietly in his voice. I forced a shrug. “Probably stress or something I ate; maybe my period is due." He moved closer, crouching in front of me, his hands resting on my knees, grounding and warm.
“You’ve barely eaten, you’re exhausted, and now you’re in pain," he said. His concern shifted toward suspicion. “We’re calling the doctor," he said.
"No," The word left too fast, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
“Why not?” he asked. Because if doctors got involved, truth followed, and I wasn’t ready for that yet. "I just need sleep."
He watched me carefully reading every microexpression the way he always did, and tension stretched between us. “You’re shutting me out again," he said, and I swallowed hard. His voice softened, but accuracy hurt more than anger. I looked away, unable to hold his gaze.
“I’m fine, Kai." Silence filled the room, heavy and uncomfortable; finally, he stood up, running a hand through his hair, frustration slipping through control.
“I don’t like not knowing what’s wrong with you," he said.
“Nothing’s wrong," I said; the lie sounded weaker this time. He stared at me another long moment before nodding once, though disbelief remained obvious.
"Alright," he said. But the distance settled instantly between us, and guilt twisted painfully because pushing him away felt worse than fear itself.
Later that night I woke to sharper pain; a gasp escaped before I could stop it, and I curled instinctively, clutching my stomach while panic surged violently. Please, please, please, tears blurred my vision as dread crashed over me because I knew this feeling too well. Movement beside me followed instantly.
“Tessa?” he asked.
Zaiel sat up, already alert, his hand finding my arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Just pain," I mumbled.
His voice sharpened. “Where?” he asked.
I hesitated, breath shaking. “My stomach," I said, and that was enough.
He turned on the light immediately, concern transforming into action.
“We’re going to the hospital," he said.
"No," I grabbed his wrist desperately. His gaze locked onto mine, dark and unyielding. "I'll be fine," I said, and his jaw tightened.
“You said that last time before collapsing," he said, and the reminder hit hard. Fear flickered openly across his face now.