After My Groom Killed Our Miracle Baby

I sat on the floor of my Plaza Hotel suite with the tie clip balanced on my knee. The silver was warm from my hands. I'd been working on it for weeks—filing, polishing, pressing my thumbprint into the metal while it was still soft. It left a mark you could only see if you looked close. My fingerprint. Right there on the clasp, hidden where only Kaden would know.

The room smelled like roses. White roses everywhere. On the dresser, the nightstand, in vases by the window. Tomorrow I'd walk down the aisle and see Kaden waiting at the end. Tomorrow everything would be official.

I turned the clip over in my palm. The engraving caught the light. My initials next to his. A.S. + K.R. I'd done it myself at the workshop, bent over the bench until my back ached. I wanted to give him something no one else could. Something that said: I see you. I choose you. I'm yours.

I wrapped it in tissue paper and set it in a small box. Tomorrow morning I'd slip it into his jacket pocket before the ceremony. He'd find it later, maybe during the reception. Maybe he'd smile. Maybe he'd pull me aside and kiss me and tell me it was perfect.

I stood and smoothed my dress. The rehearsal dinner was tonight at the Midtown club. Just the wedding party and close family. I wasn't supposed to see Kaden until tomorrow, but this didn't count. It was just dinner.

I grabbed my purse and left the suite.

---

The club was loud when I arrived. Laughter echoed off the marble floors. Kaden's groomsmen were gathered near the bar, ties loosened, glasses in hand. I scanned the room for him.

Then I saw it.

Macie Willis stood near the coat check, laughing with two guests I didn't recognize. She wore a black dress that fit like it was painted on. And pinned to her clutch—right there, catching the light—was my tie clip.

I stopped walking.

It was mine. I knew every curve of it. The way the silver bent at the edge. The tiny imperfection near the clasp where I'd filed too hard and had to smooth it back.

She was wearing it like a trophy.

My hands went cold. I stood there in the middle of the room and watched her tilt her head back and laugh. She touched the clip with one finger, casual, like it was nothing.

Like Kaden had given it to her.

I heard his voice before I saw him. Low and steady, coming from the hallway near the private lounges. I turned and followed the sound. My legs moved on their own.

The lounge door was open just enough. I stopped outside and looked through the gap.

Kaden stood by the window, hands in his pockets. Macie was across from him, arms crossed, smiling.

"You're really going through with it?" she asked.

Kaden shrugged. "It's a formality."

"A formality," Macie repeated. She sounded amused.

"I owe her mother," Kaden said. His voice was flat. Matter-of-fact. "The woman died saving my life. This is how I pay that back."

Macie laughed softly. "That's one way to look at a marriage."

"It's the only way to look at it," Kaden said. "Ariah's... fine. She's dependable. But this isn't about love. It's about closing a debt."

I stopped breathing.

Macie stepped closer to him. "And after? When the debt's paid?"

Kaden didn't answer right away. He looked out the window. "We'll see."

I pushed the door open.

They both turned. Kaden's face didn't change. Macie's smile faltered for half a second, then came back.

"Ariah," Kaden said. "You're early."

"The wedding's off," I said.

My voice sounded strange. Too quiet. Too calm.

Kaden sighed. "Don't be dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic," I said. "I'm telling you it's off."

He straightened and walked toward me. "We're not doing this here."

"We're doing it now," I said.

He stopped in front of me. His jaw tightened. "Move."

I didn't.

He put his hand on my shoulder and shoved me aside.

I stumbled backward. My heel caught on the edge of the doorframe. I hit the marble floor hard. The pain shot up my spine and into my stomach—sharp, deep, wrong.

I tried to stand. My legs wouldn't work.

I heard someone running. Then Milan was there, kneeling beside me, his face pale.

"Ariah," he said. His voice cracked. "Don't move. I'm calling an ambulance."

I looked up at Kaden. He stood in the doorway, staring down at me. He looked annoyed.

"I'm fine," I whispered.

But I wasn't.

---

The hospital lights were too bright. I lay on a bed with thin sheets and listened to the doctor's voice.

"I'm sorry," she said. "There's no heartbeat."

I turned my head toward the wall.

Milan sat in the chair beside me. He didn't say anything. He just reached over and took my hand.

I cried for the first time in ten years.

He didn't let go.