He Didn’t Want Me, Until Divorce Made Him Regret

When I woke again, the sharp scent of disinfectant filled my nose, the same smell that had haunted me through countless rounds of IVF.

Nikolai stood at my bedside, his gaze heavy with concern. "Alina, you’re pregnant, about six weeks."

The words froze me in place. My hand instinctively went to my stomach.

Ten years of marriage. Three failed IVF attempts. And now, in the middle of the divorce cooling-off period, I was pregnant?

How ironic this world could be.

"However, your condition isn’t ideal." Dr. Landers stood beside him, flipping through the test results, his brows furrowed. "The endometrium is too thin, and your HCG and progesterone levels are low; this doesn’t look good."

"Abort it." I cut him off, pushing myself upright despite the sting of the IV needle tugging at my wrist.

"And destroy all the frozen embryos in the hospital, mine and Leandro’s."

When Nikolai heard my decision, he said nothing. He only tightened his grip around my hand in silence.

Just before I entered the operating room, my phone vibrated, a message from Leandro.

[Alina, for the sake of our ten years of marriage, let’s talk again.]

I stared at the screen, let out a cold sneer, and powered it off.

Ridiculous. What was there left to talk about?

The procedure ended quickly. My body, already drained of strength, leaned heavily against Nikolai’s arm as he supported my waist.

"Take it slow, no need to rush," he whispered.

A faint ache pulsed in my lower abdomen, a cruel reminder of what had been taken away.

And then, a voice I could never mistake cut through the air.

"Don’t be afraid, Daddy’s got you!"

My body stiffened. Slowly, I looked up and there was Leandro, bending to scoop Kieran into his arms. The child’s small face was flushed, his head weakly resting against his shoulder.

Azalea stood at his side, a registration slip in one hand, her other arm resting naturally in the crook of Leandro’s elbow, the picture of a devoted wife.

Leandro lifted his head, and his gaze collided with mine.

For an instant, his expression faltered. His eyes swept over my pale face, slid to Nikolai’s steady hand supporting me, and finally dropped to the discharge slip I held.

"Alina?" His voice carried hesitation, his brows knitting together. "Why are you here at the hospital? Are you unwell?"

Azalea’s wary eyes darted over me at once, her fingers tightening on Leandro’s sleeve.

My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, empty now. The life once inside me was gone. What meaning was there in his concern?

"It’s nothing, just a routine checkup. You two came to the hospital for…?"

“Keiran had a fever and wasn’t feeling well, so we brought him in.” Leandro’s eyes stayed fixed on my face, probing with quiet concern. “Alina, are you sure you’re alright? You look terribly pale.”

Nikolai’s voice came at the perfect time, firm and protective. “It’s just a little anemia, nothing to worry about.”

Leandro seemed ready to say more, but Azalea tugged at his sleeve. “Leandro, it’s our turn now.”

After a brief pause, he gave a reluctant nod. His gaze swept over me one last time before he turned away.

“Then… take care of yourself, and rest well.”

I stood still, watching their family of three fade into the distance.

What a cruel irony.

Leandro had given all his love to a child who was, in all likelihood, not his by blood. And he would never realize that he had just lost the only child who truly was his.

With a pained sigh, Nikolai wrapped his arm around me. “It’s over now, Alina. Let me take you home.”

Resting against his shoulder, I closed my eyes and allowed him to lead me slowly from the hospital.

Behind us, the mechanical voice of the broadcast called out patient numbers, and at last, my tears flowed soundlessly.