From Here, No More Us

Leah crashed in the guest room for the next few days, then made a beeline for the atelier every morning.

Maestro Vezzaro didn't mess around when it came to talent. He wanted her latest sculpture on his desk, no excuses. Time? Ticking. Pressure? Through the roof.

But something was off. She'd been dragging—like, eyes heavy, arms dead weight. Once, she literally passed out mid-sculpt. Not great.

A chill crawled up her spine.

Outside the hospital, Leah stared at the paper. The numbers were a joke. Her legs gave out, and she dropped into a chair.

No freaking way.

Back when she and Ian first got married, having a baby was the dream. They'd tried everything. Nothing worked.

Eventually, Ian told her to stop stressing and just let it happen naturally.

She'd finally made peace with never. But now...

Her hand drifted to her stomach. Eyes red, heart pounding.

'Really, baby? Now?'

Her phone buzzed.

"Leah! Come quick! We've got good news!"

***

When Leah pulled up to Ian's parents' house and stepped out of the car, she barely had time to speak before getting yanked inside.

Everyone looked like they'd just won the lottery.

"Leah! Cecilia's pregnant!"

Her head snapped toward the couch. Excuse me—what?

Cecilia actually blushed. "Jacquelin, don't." All fake modesty. "It's only been a few days. I haven't even seen a doctor yet."

Jacquelin—Ian's mom—waved it off. "Oh, please. I've had two kids. I know the signs."

Cecilia dipped her head, all shy smiles, one hand resting gently on her stomach.

"Leah," Jacquelin said, beaming, "now that Cecilia's expecting, you'll have to take good care of her. After all, this is also..."

Yeah. No need to finish that sentence. This wasn't just Cecilia's baby—it was Ian's too.

Ian jumped in, quick. "Mom, you know Leah. Of course she'll take care of Cecilia."

"Of course!"

The whole room buzzed with excitement. No one even looked her way.

Leah knew she couldn't dip just yet, so she slipped upstairs.

She crashed for maybe twenty minutes before nausea slammed her. She barely made it to the bathroom.

"Leah, are you okay?"

She spun. Cecilia stood in the doorway—zero clue how long she'd been watching.

Leah kept it cool. "Nothing."

"Leah, I know you blame me, but I didn't want this either. It was Andrew's parents who pushed for it," she said, dragging a hand over her stomach. "And Ian agreed too."

Leah didn't flinch. Just rinsed, wiped, and brushed past her. "I know."

But as they passed, Cecilia grabbed her wrist. Her face twisted.

"This child is my only one. No one's stealing his spotlight."

Leah blinked. Then spotted the paper in Cecilia's hand.

Her report.

Panic exploded in her chest. She yanked her arm back, instantly covering her stomach.

"What are you trying to do?"

Cecilia's eyes locked on her hands. Her whole expression shifted—sharp, dangerous.

"You shouldn't be pregnant. Not now. I'm not letting anyone steal the love meant for Ian's and my baby."

Leah's pulse spiked. She turned and bolted.

"Ian! Ian!"

Cecilia came after her. "Shut up! I told them I was craving dried fruit, so they all ran off to get it. Right now, I'm the star. Me!"

Leah spun, breath ragged, keeping her distance. "I'm not fighting you. I'll leave. Keep Ian. Keep the Fillions. I'm done."

Cecilia's smile curled—feral. "You'll leave? That's not enough."