Discovery and regret
(JARED'S POV)
closer to understanding what I had lost.
Her name, in her handwriting. Keeping a diary? This is too old-shool, just what Arielle would do. How could I never realize she had this habit? My pulse quickened as I skimmed through the next few pages, my eyes searching for anything-anything that would bring me I came upon an entry, and the words on the page seemed to leap out at me.
"I discovered I was pregnant today. I've been having the symptoms, so I went to see a doctor. It's confirmed, I'm going to be a mother! I can't wait to tell Jared... he's going to be so happy."
The excitement in her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I could almost hear her voice in my head, the same way she used to look at me with that hopeful smile. My hands tightened around the diary as my chest constricted painfully. Our child.
I flipped to the next page, my eyes scanning the next entry.
"I was going to break the news to Jared tonight at our anniversary dinner, but he left on a work call and hasn't come back yet."
I paused, my breath catching in my throat. That night... I remembered it. I had left her, abandoned her at that dinner, not for work, but because Sofia had called me from the airport, and I'd rushed to her side. I didn't even think about what Arielle had planned. Didn't think about her at all. My jaw clenched. I always thought...we had time.
heavier than the last. The entries were raw, filled with Arielle's pain, but not the jealousy I would have expected.
too wrapped up in Sofia's mess to even notice. Back then, I
before she came back. It feels like he's slipping away from me, and I don't know how to hold on
simple, yet they cut deeper than any accusation. It wasn't anger that spilled from the pages-it was sorrow. Quiet, relentless sorrow. Arielle wasn't fighting for control. She was
to tell him about the pregnancy today, but he left again. I just... I can't bring myself to tell him now.
trust him anymore. I love him, but it hurts so much. I feel like I've
winced at that line, a
It hadn't meant anything to me at the
I hadn't even
through more pages until I
been. My heart sank at the thought of what she had written and why
pressed my fingers lightly against the next blank page, noticing faint impressions left behind from the
indentation of her words was barely visible, but as I angled the diary toward the light, I could just make out the faint outline of
I
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