<b>Chapter </b><b>96 </b>
Elena’s POV<b>: </b>
The blood test was the first thing she ordered. It was standard procedure, of course, and Dr. Beckett had always been thorough. After years of treating me, after witnessing every flu, every scar, every haunting re–up of the condition I thought I’d buried under <b>irond </b>control, she still <b>looked at </b>me like was that same shivering right year–old girl <b>who </b>used to flinch at needles. Now? I didn’t even blink,
She <b>set </b>the cotton <b>pad </b>against my arm, tapped my inner elbow, slid the needle in. It was nothing. Just pressure. Just another moment in a string of thousands I’d been dragging my body throughtely.
“We’ll have the result back soon,” she said gently, standing and pulling off her gloves, “In the meantime, I want you to think carefully, Elena
She walked to the cab. Her heels clicked softly against the vinyl floor. Everything in this room was clean. Sterile. I nodded, barely hearing her as she turned,tex snapping between her fingers.
“And,” she <b>added</b>, more softly now, “we should remove <b>your </b>IUD right now, <b>it’s </b><b>a </b>short five minute process. <b>But </b>if you’re <b>pregnant </b>and <b>you’re </b>even considering keeping it…” She trailed off, her voice softening, “it could causeplications, Pain Miscarriage. You don’t need added risk right now.”
I swallowed and gave a small nod. My heart thudded, slow and uncertain, but I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the energy to
She guided me through the process quickly. A nurse helped set things up while I changed into the provided gown. The whole thing felt surreal–like I was floating just above my body, watching everything happen to someone else.
True to her word, it was over fast. Five minutes. A little pain. Some pressure. Nothing I hadn’t already been through.
“Alright,” she said afterward, handing me a ss of water and a set of mild painkillers. “You’ll feel some cramping for the next couple <b>hours</b>. Try to rest And avoid any heavy activity.”
She tapped the prescription paper lightly against her palm, then offered it to me with a thoughtful look. “I’m also giving you something for the nausea, And if you need anything–anything at all–you call me,”
I nodded, gripping the edge of the <b>chair </b>as I sat upright slowly. My body ached in ces thadn’t expected, but it was bearable. Numbing, even
“Thanks,” I murmured, voice quieter than I intended.
She handed me the <b>necessary </b>papers–medications, instructions, diagrams I didn’t want to look at–and i held them in a trembling hand as I left the
<bam </b><b>room</b>.
“Take your time,” she <b>said </b>gently from behind me. “But Elena… thew only allows elective termination before twelve gestational weeks. You have time. But not much.”
“Okay I nodded, unsure what else to say.
I stepped out into the hallway, still gripping the papers in both hands, unable to hear anything beyond the static roar in my ears.
And then I stopped, I froze.
Because standing right outside the waiting room, directly in front of Mkai, was him.
Niki.
My lungs locked up
No. No, no, no–he wasn’t supposed to be here. Why was he here? I backed up quickly, panic mping down on my ribs like a <b>vice</b>. My mind scrambled to react, to think, to hide what I was holding I twisted away, turned my shoulder to shield the papers and shoved them deep into my rucksack. Thank god I’d had the sense to bring it inside,
My heart thundered as Iyanked out my phone, the screen glowing to life with his name shing in unread notifications:
<b>Nikod </b>
Elenia. Where are you? (2 hours ago!
Why are you at the clinic? (30 minutes ago)
Are you okay<b>? </b>(15 minutes ago<b>) </b>
Please answer me. (10 minutes ago)
If you don’t pick up, I’ming in. (5 minutes agol
I’m worried about you.
I closed my eyes and exhaled shakily, pressing the phone to my chest.
He was here. He’de.
I turned slowly, trying topose myself, trying to mask the tsunami of emotions crashing through me–fear, <b>guilt</b>, anger, sadness–Toote.
A hand settled on my shoulder, andif
I flinched.
“Elena,” he said, his voice lower than <b>usual</b>. There was a thread of concern <bced </b>through it. “Are you okay?<b>” </b>
My body jerked slightly at the contact, and I turned my face up to look at him. His features were <b>drawn </b>tight, jaw clenched, brows pinched with worry. His eyes scanned mine, then dropped briefly to my chest, concern deepening.
Of course. He thought it was my illness.
He had to. It made sense. <b>That </b>was a good thing.
“Just <b>a </b>cold,” I lied easily, stepping away. “Season’s changing and all that. Why are you here?”
“<b>I </b>called you.” He frowned. “You didn’t answer.”
There w
was a pause.
His expression changed then–<b>just </b><b>subtly</b>. His gaze softened but dimmed<b>, </b>like something <b>inside </b>him <b>sagged</b>.
“So now you won’t even bother picking up my phone?”
I stared <b>at </b>him for <b>a </b>long moment. He looked so tired. And not in <b>the </b>disheveled, sleep–deprived way. This was deeper, Soul–deep. It made my chest ache in a way I didn’t want to name.
“Niki,” I whispered. “I don’t <b>know </b>what to tell you, okay? If I wanted you here, I would’ve answered.”
He looked at me like I’d kicked the floor out from under him.
Thad to look away. I couldn’t keep staring at him when I felt this raw, this<b>… </b>vited by my own body I couldn’t afford him seeing the tears burning behind my eyes or how badly I <b>was </b>shaking under this calm.
Because it I cracked even a little, he’d know
And if he knew, he’d probably never forgive me. The worried look on his <b>face </b>when he’d <b>asked </b>about the chances of my IUD failing <b>shed </b>in my mind.
214
I didn’t even know if I could forgive myself if i actually told him the truth,
“I meant it, you know?” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “When I said it was ever. The contract. The marriage. All otit
“Elena-”
“Listen to me.” My veice was stronger now, firmer<b>, </b>a strange fury giving me backbone. “You said I could leave. You said the contract was done. So please please–stay out of my life now. Tell your people to stop following me. I know you’re still having the watched”
His mouth opened, then shut. He looked away briefly, jaw tightening.
“I can’t do <b>that</b>.”
I clenched my lists.
“And why not?
He stopped forward slightly, enough to close the space between us by inches
“Because,” he said, voice low, eyes burning into mine, “you’re still my wife. And I can’t guarantee your safety otherwise.”
Wile.”
The word stabbed through me like a dull de. I turned my head, unable to look at him any longer. Behind him, I saw Mkal standing with his arms folded, leaning casually against the wall. He didn’t interfere didn’t move–but his presence reminded me I wasn’t here alone. As stupid as that sounded.
Because what I was about to say? I needed strength.
I’d already lost most of my dignity. I’d rather not lose the rest of it by bing a damsel in distress
“I already said it, Niki,” I whispered. Then louder, <b>clearer</b>. “This marriage is over.”
He went still.
in on his soul.
<b>I </b><b>saw </b>it happen–like someone hit the pause button
“I’m filing for divorce,” I said.
The words echoed in the hallway like a bomb detonation.
a
For a full ten seconds, he didn’t blink. Didn’t move. <b>Just </b>stared at me like I’d turned into someone he didn’t recognize.
“Elena,” he said finally, voice quiet, careful, like he was holding something precious between his teeth. “Don’t do this.”
cry. “I have to before you hate me. Before I start hating you.”
“I have to,” I said, forcing myself not to cry.
He funched at that. And something behind his eyes snapped.
“You don’t mean that,” he said.
He stepped forward again, his face a storm. “You think I’m judging you?”
“No,” I said
i think you’re trying to own me. I’m not your fucking pet, <b>Niki</b>.<b>” </b>
His hands curled into fists at his sides. “You’re not my pet he growled. “You re my-
He stopped himself.
Ididn’t let him Helsh,
“Whatever I am, I won’t be it for long.”