Rozen hadn’t just chosen to stay away; he’d chosen to be with her—Thalia. Ever since she reappeared in our lives, flaunting her presence, I had felt the shift between us. Rozen had become distant, distracted, always finding excuses to be out of the house. I thought we were trying for a baby together, but now I realized he had been giving a part of himself to her.
This was my breaking point.
I couldn’t bring a child into this, into a life filled with lies and neglect. I felt utterly trapped, and the thought of carrying his child, knowing that he was elsewhere—possibly helping Thalia bring a baby into the world—made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.
Without thinking, I made my decision.
I called the hospital and booked an appointment. The idea of ending the pregnancy weighed heavily on me, but I had to free myself from this pain. I couldn’t carry this child knowing Rozen didn’t truly care about us—about me. It was too much to bear.