From Now On, We're No Longer on the Same Path

The reply was instant:

“Seriously? I finally take your place?! This is amazing!”

Just picturing his face made me laugh out loud.

Sienna Vale gave me a wary look. I quickly hid my smile and poured a glass of water on her.

Dorian rushed in, breathless. Normally it took him an hour to get home from work. Today, thirty minutes.

His eyes darted between Sienna and me.

We were both sitting on the couch. I was calm. She was crying.

I hadn’t said a word. She was the one breaking down.

Dorian frowned. “Who told you to come here? Go home. Now.”

Between sobs, she choked out, “I don’t want my child to be born illegitimate.”

He sank onto the couch, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “You don’t want that? What about what I want? You’re trying to force me?”

She shook her head, tears streaming.

“I didn’t mean that...”

“I’m already the other woman. Now I’m pregnant, and my child will have no name. You have to give me a title—otherwise, how could my baby go to school?”

His gaze turned cold, voice sharp. “Didn’t I say? Just have the baby. I’ll handle the rest. Why the rush?”

Silence fell.

Sienna cried harder. I handed her a tissue, watching the scene with detached amusement.

Even now, he refused to divorce me.

He clings to our ten years like a lifeline yet craves the thrill of something new. Wanting both—his selfishness written all over him.

I took a deep breath, steadying my voice. “Dorian, just divorce me.”

Then I looked at Sienna.

So young. So beautiful. Twenty-two, in the prime of her life. Yet here she was—reduced to a mistress.

Before he came back, I’d had a quick talk with her.

She grew up in a family that prized boys over girls. Before she was eighteen, her parents kicked her out to work and supported her younger brother’s education.

She struggled, barely surviving—until she met Dorian Hayes.

He treated her well enough, but only as a possession. Still, being his mistress meant she could eat, pay rent, survive.

Her pregnancy was no accident. But her feelings were real.

She begged me to give Dorian to her.

So righteous. So self-serving. A twisted appeal to morality—and utterly disgusting.

Dorian stared at me long and hard.

Long enough for my eyes to sting with tears.

I saw the hesitation there.

Ten years of love… how could he just walk away?

Anyone who’s been heartbroken knows the pain that leaves half your soul broken.

Finally, he turned to Sienna.

“I won’t divorce. I’ll raise the baby. Just have it.”

“Why?!”

“Why won’t you divorce?! Is she younger than me? Prettier?”

Her voice cracked with disbelief. Each word stabbed me like a knife.

“She’s just an old wife. What reason do you have to stay?”

“Didn’t you tell me in bed that I couldn’t have kids anymore? That you wanted a child of your own?”

“I’m pregnant now—and you want to back out?”

Slap.

The sharp crack of his hand against her cheek echoed.

He was furious. “Shut up!”

She clutched her burning cheek and sobbed harder.

But I barely heard their fight.

All I could feel was the dull ache crushing my chest.

He told her I couldn’t have children.

Why?

Did he forget exactly why?