[1 year later]
(Ayra's POV)
The first wave hit me hard, catching me completely off guard.
I barely made it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach forced their way out.
Kneeling on the cold, tiled floor, I clutched the edge of the toilet, my body trembling as I retched.
Tears stung my eyes, and my chest burned with every heave.
I stayed there for what felt like an eternity, gasping for air, waiting for the nausea to pass.
Just as I managed to catch my breath, I heard footsteps behind me—Kyle.
His presence filled the doorway, and I felt his gaze on my back, heavy and irritated.
I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I already knew what I'd see: that familiar frown, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in impatience.
"Are you seriously doing this again?" he snapped, arms crossed, his tone dripping with irritation. "What's wrong with you now?"
"I—I don't know," I stammered, wiping my mouth with my trembling hands. "I think I'm coming down with something."
He sighed loudly, his annoyance evident "You're always coming down with something these days, Ayra. Maybe you should see a doctor," he said flatly, shaking his head.
The words cut deep, but I bit my lip and nodded, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.
He didn't even ask if I needed help, didn't offer to take me to the hospital or bring me a glass of water.
"I can't deal with this right now, Ayra. I've got enough on my plate right now."
'Dealing with me.' His words cut like a knife, and I felt the familiar sting of tears at the corners of my eyes.
But I blinked them back, forcing myself to stay strong. He had changed so much in the past year.
The man who once held me, whispered sweet promises, and made me feel like I was his whole world had vanished, replaced by someone I barely recognized.
His love had long turned to resentment.
"Kyle…" I began, but he shook his head, already turning to leave. He grabbed his jacket and keys from the counter.
"I've got things to do. Figure out whatever's wrong with you and fix it. Don't call me unless it's important."
I opened my mouth to respond but closed it again.
What was the point?
He wouldn't care anyway. Anything I said only seemed to fuel his irritation.
The door slammed behind him, leaving behind a heavy silence that seemed to crush me.
I stayed on the bathroom floor for a while, trying to piece myself together, but the tears came before I could stop them.
I wasn't crying just because I felt sick—I was crying because the man who had once promised to love me through everything couldn't even be bothered to check if I was okay.
It had barely been a year since we said, "I do." Barely a year since I walked down the aisle with so much hope in my heart.
Back then, I thought Kyle was my forever, my safe place.
I believed we would build a life full of love and laughter.
But the man I married was gone, replaced by a total stranger.
I had done everything to make him happy. Everything. I gave him my heart, my trust, my everything—even my family's legacy.
I made him the sole owner of my family's company, handing over to him the family business that has been in the Miller family for generations.
I knew how hard my parents fought to maintain our hold over the company.
I willed everything to him—my inheritance, my fortune, all the security my family had worked so hard to leave behind.
I thought it would make him happy, bring back the man I once fell in love with.
But instead, it pushed him further away. The more I tried to please him, the more he seemed to resent me.
It was like nothing I did was ever enough.
I thought maybe—just maybe—having a child would change things.
A baby could bring us back together, remind him of the love we once shared. But trying for a baby only seemed to irritate him more.
He rolled his eyes when I brought it up and would sometimes threaten to leave if I kept insisting.
Still, I kept trying, clinging to the possibility of a fresh start.
Recently, I'd noticed changes in my body—fatigue, nausea, dizziness.
These symptoms had been happening for weeks now.
For a fleeting moment, I let myself believe it was a sign.
Maybe it's happening, I thought. Maybe the baby I've been praying for is finally on the way.
That hope was the only thing that got me off the bathroom floor.
I cleaned myself up, changed into fresh clothes, and drove straight to the hospital.
The waiting room felt like it was closing in on me as I sat there, clutching my purse, my heart pounding in anticipation.
When the doctor finally called me in, I could barely sit still.
I explained my symptoms, told her about my hopes of it being a baby.
She smiled kindly and ran some tests.
My heart raced as I sat in the waiting room, surrounded by the faint smell of disinfectant and the soft murmurs of other patients.
It was finally my turn. I quickly rushed in but when I arrived the doctor's expression was very grave.
"Mrs. Durry, I'm afraid it's not what you're hoping for," she said gently. "You're not pregnant."
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I blinked at her, unable to speak.
She took a deep breath, her hands folding over the clipboard.
"We ran some additional tests based on your symptoms. I'm so sorry, but it's not good news. You have leukemia."
I stared at her, my mind struggling to process what she'd just said. "Leukemia?" I repeated, the word foreign on my tongue.
"Yes," she said softly. "It's in an advanced stage. We need to admit you as soon as possible to start treatment."
The room started to spin. I gripped the edge of the chair, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
This couldn't be real. This wasn't my life. It couldn't be.
How did I go from being a powerful heiress and a happy bride to being in a miserable marriage, and in an advanced stage of leukemia?
How did my life tumble so badly? Where did it all go wrong? How did it come to this—my own looming death?
I didn't want to die. Not yet. There were so many things I wanted to do.
"I... I need to tell my husband," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor nodded, her eyes full of sympathy. She gave me some pamphlets, a list of treatment options, but I couldn't focus on any of it.
The only person who came to mind was Sasha.
She was the only one I could talk to at the moment.
I picked up my phone and dialed her number a couple of times, but it wasn't going through. So, I decided to go see her.
She would be the one to tell me what to do and maybe advise me on how best to break the news to Kyle.
I immediately got into my car and drove off to Sasha's house.
I knew she would have a solution. She always does.