The clinic smelled of antiseptic and new
Beginnings.
Jasmine sat alone on the narrow chair, the white paper trembling between her fingers.
Positive.
word was simple, harmless even. felt heavier than the suitcase she had carried out of Keith's house.
"Miss Cole?" the nurse called softly. "The doctor will see you now."
Jasmine nodded, standing on legs that didn't feel like hers. Her mind kept replaying the same scene—the candles, Lena's red coat, Keith's calm voice saying the sentence that ended her marriage.
I never loved you.
She pressed a hand to her stomach.
"How far along am I?" she asked once she was seated.
"About six weeks," the doctor replied with a kind smile. "Congratulations."
Congratulations.
No one had congratulated her when she married Keith.
No one had congratulated her when she tried to be a good wife.
But now, carrying a child from a man who didn't want her, the world suddenly thought she was lucky.
"Are you keeping the baby?" the doctor asked gently.
Jasmine didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
The answer came from somewhere deeper than fear.
Outside the clinic, rain had begun to fall.
She stood under the small roof, watching people hurry by with umbrellas and busy lives. None of them knew that her entire future had just changed inside a quiet room with pale blue walls.
Her phone vibrated.
For a wild second, her heart betrayed her and hoped it was Keith.
It wasn't.
MOTHER:
Your father is asking if the divorce is real.
Jasmine exhaled slowly.
Of course her family already knew. In their world, news traveled faster than feelings.
She typed back:
It's real.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again.
MOTHER:
Come home. We will talk.
Home.
The word felt unfamiliar now.
That night she stayed in a small rented room, staring at the ceiling while the city breathed outside the window.
She imagined telling Keith.
She imagined his face—cold, distant, maybe irritated.
He would think she was trying to trap him.
He would think she was lying.
Jasmine turned to her side and whispered into the dark.
"It's just you and me now."
Her baby.
Her miracle.
Her reason to survive.
Meanwhile, across the city, Keith Ardent poured himself a drink he didn't need.
The apartment was quiet again—exactly the way he liked it. No candles. No smell of home-cooked food. No Jasmine moving softly around him like a careful shadow.
Lena sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"She left easily," Lena said casually. "I expected more drama."
Keith said nothing.
He remembered Jasmine at the door with her suitcase—too calm, too dignified.
"Happy anniversary."
Why did that sentence keep echoing?
"You did the right thing," Lena continued, standing to wrap her arms around his neck. "Now we can start over."
Keith forced a smile.
"Yes."
But his gaze drifted to the dining table.
There was still a faint circle where the candle had been.
Days turned into weeks.
Jasmine found a small job at a boutique, saved every coin, and learned how to live without the weight of Keith's silence.
Morning sickness greeted her like an uninvited guest.
Loneliness visited at night.
But she kept going.
One afternoon, while arranging dresses on a rack, she felt the first flutter inside her stomach.
She froze.
A tiny movement.
Like a secret knock.
Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them.
"Hey," she whispered, smiling through the blur. "You're saying hello already?"
In that moment, she stopped being the abandoned wife.
She became a mother.
Keith signed the divorce papers on a grey Tuesday.
His lawyer placed them neatly on the glass table.
"It was uncontested," the man said. "Miss Cole didn't request alimony or property."
Keith frowned.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing, sir."
He looked at Jasmine's signature—small, elegant, final.
No fight.
No demands.
No messages.
Just a clean cut.
He should have felt relieved.
Instead, something uneasy settled in his chest.
That evening he walked past a children's store without meaning to.
Tiny shoes were displayed in the window—ridiculously small, almost unreal.
Keith stopped.
He imagined Jasmine standing there, looking at them with that shy smile she used to wear when she thought he wasn't watching.
The thought annoyed him.
He turned away.
This was freedom.
This was what he wanted.
So why did it feel like loss?
Five months later, Jasmine stood in front of a mirror, tracing the curve of her growing belly.
"You're getting big," she laughed softly.
Life was still hard, but it was hers.
No more cold dinners.
No more pretending.
She had started designing clothes again, sketching at night, dreaming of opening her own brand one day.
For the first time, she wasn't living for Keith Ardent.
She was living for Jasmine Cole—and the little heartbeat that followed her everywhere.
Across the city, Keith received a call that would change everything.
"Sir," his assistant said carefully, "there's a woman here claiming to have information about Miss Jasmine Cole."
Keith's pen paused.
"About my ex-wife?"
"Yes, sir. She says it's… urgent."
He leaned back in his chair.
Jasmine had been gone for months.
Their lives were no longer connected.
"Send her in."
The door opened.
And the next words would split his world in two.