"No…" Zara mumbled, the faint double line on the pregnancy test blurred as tears welled in her eyes. She clutched the stick tightly, her heart pounding.
"Zara!" Ethan's voice startled her, echoing through the bathroom of their small apartment where she stood. She hadn't heard him come home.
She stumbled backwards, quickly grabbing the hand basin for support as the test kit fell to the cold floor.
"Zara, are you alright? What's on your mind?" He questioned, his brow furrowing as he studied her downturned gaze and the way her fingers fidgeted on the edge of the basin.
She tried to speak, but the lump in her throat wouldn't budge. Her hands trembled as several thoughts went through her mind.
'This can't be happening. What will Ethan say? What if he is angry? What if this ruins us?'
They had been dating since her second year in college and she moved in with him in their third year. She wanted to enjoy her life to the fullest with Ethan— but not with a baby.
Ethan followed her gaze until it landed on the test kit that was sitting on the floor which he quickly reached down to pick.
"Zara…" His voice softened, trailing off as realization dawned.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," She stammered. "I'm…always on pills, I—don't know how it happened…"
Her words tumbled out in a panicked rush, but Ethan didn't interrupt. He stayed silent, watching her with those steady blue eyes that always seemed to comfort her.
Finally, when she couldn't speak anymore, he reached for her hand, his grip firm and grounding.
"Zara," he said, his voice calm and collected. "Look at me."
She hesitated before meeting his gaze, afraid of what she might see there. But instead of anger or fear, there was something in his eyes that showed warmth and certainty.
"This is good news," he said.
Her breath hitched. "But—"
"No buts." He smiled, his lips curving in that boyish way that always made her heart ache with love as he slowly went down on one knee.
He pulled out a ring from the back pocket of his trousers and started, "I was going to make this all romantic, but I don't think there is a more perfect time to say this…"
"Marry me, Zara."
Zara's eyes flared wide as she spotted the ring glimmering from his palm, her breath catching in her throat., "Y—you even have a ring." she stammered, confusion and awe flooding her voice. "How long have you had this planned?"
"Since we resumed the semester," he said, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. "I wanted to wait until after your final papers, but I guess now's the perfect moment."
He held the ring out with steady hands. "Marry me, Zara. I promise it'll be the best decision you ever make." His voice dropped to a gentle whisper, hope shining in his eyes as he searched hers for a response.
Zara nodded her head as she covered her mouth with her palm to hold back the cry that was itching her throat.
Ethan slid the ring in her finger, stood up and pulled her slender body into a hug, tears blurring his vision. "I'm not going anywhere, Zara. I'll always be here for you. Always."
For the first time since she'd seen the test result, Zara exhaled a shaky breath. She let herself believe him, her fears melting away in the warmth of his embrace.
Zara stood around 5'6 causing Ethan to tower over her as they hugged even though he was just 5'10.
She was only 22 and had her whole life ahead of her. She had a dream. To be a Ballerina. She even cut ties with her parents to pursue that dream.
A week later, she got an email of her scholarship into New York City Ballet.
She had been waiting for this for 2 years, yet she let it all go. To be his wife. To be the mother of his children.
***Seven Years Later***
"What will it be, Mr. Campbell? Bond or Break?" The hostess, Ms. Lydia asked with barely contained curiosity.
Ethan's silence stretched long causing Zara's unease to deepen as she stared at the ring on her finger, the same one he had slipped on that night. Back then, she had thought it symbolized a future full of love and promises. Now, it felt like a shackle—one she had willingly worn for seven years.
Her marriage was falling apart and she desperately wanted to save it, so when her best friend, Irene Parker suggested she participate in the new episode of her favorite family show— Bond Or Break, she agreed despite her doubts.
Ethan's jaw tightened as he looked at Zara. She still wore the ring, her fingers resting lightly on the wheelchair's arm. 'She deserves better,' he thought, but the words that left his mouth were colder. "Break."
Zara's heart dropped into her stomach at his response. She felt like she was suffocating, her chest tightening with humiliation. Her fingers clenched around the cold metal of her wheelchair, the same one she now uses for support on long walks since the accident three months ago.
"Irene and I are in love." He added as his hand clasped with Irene's.
Humiliation burned her cheeks as the camera zoomed in, but behind the shame was the fury so raw that it made her hands tremble.
Seven years of marriage, of sacrifices, of believing his promises—and this was how it ended! On live television, for the world to see!
Tonight was supposed to be her 29th birthday— their 7th year wedding anniversary.
Even though she had watched a few episodes where some families actually Break, Irene used her desperation against her and managed to convince her that inviting her husband on the public talk show was the best way to go.
The same way she convinced Ethan to go on the show, to be honest about his feelings and set himself free from the heavy responsibilities Zara and their kids were weighing on his dreams.
Ethan was as handsome as he was ambitious so even when he enjoyed so many privileges as the son of a Chicago politician, he wanted more than just his family name. He had a small IT startup which had just been recently contracted by a big company in New York. He needs to move out of Chicago soon, and has no plans of taking his 'baggage' along.
Irene leaned into Ethan, her fingers brushing his arm. Her gaze flicked briefly to Zara, her lips curling just enough to show a hint of satisfaction. 'Seven years is enough, Zara. It's time to publicly claim what has always been mine,' she thought. 'It's my turn now.'
Her voice was calm, dripping of faux concern as she said, "Zara, you were young and desperate, so I understand why you had to go behind my back and seduce him after I told you about my feelings. You trapped him with a pregnancy— and he accepted it,"
Trapped him? Stole him? The accusations were blatant. She never trapped or even stole him, and Irene who has been Ethan's best friend since childhood and Zara's since their first year in school knew that more than anyone else.
Irene never had a thing for Ethan, or not that Zara was aware of. In fact, she didn't care about relationships back then. She was quite focused on her career, something Zara still envied.
She did have what she liked to call her "Boy Toy"—a mysterious, no-strings-attached lover who was always there when she needed him. Their arrangement was simple: no questions, no commitments, just sex.
But now, with her career flourishing and every professional milestone checked off her list, she found herself yearning for something deeper. Love. And not just with anyone—she wanted it with Ethan, her childhood best friend. The only problem? Ethan was married.
"I will give anything to make you set him free— for once. To pursue his dreams." she added.
Her sly smile and perfectly timed tears turned the audience against Zara in an instant.
The cameras zoomed in on her face, capturing every tear, every twitch of her trembling lips, and the raw hurt that she couldn't hide. The audience's murmurs grew louder, a mix of hatred for her and sympathy for Irene.
Zara's chest tightened. How could she have been so blind to the woman she once called a friend?
"Let's end it here, Zara. Let's get a divorce like every other broken family on this show. And please, don't cause a scene." Ethan suggested.
Divorce. Just like that, her marriage was over. The promises he'd made, the family they'd built—it had all been a lie.
Zara's throat burned, her vision blurring. She could feel the lens of every camera focused on her, every gaze in the audience hanging on her every movement.
Her mind screamed at her to run. Don't cry. Not here. But the memory of Ethan's promises flashed before her—his words, his touch, his lies. Seven years of love and sacrifice laid bare, mocked in front of the whole world.
Lydia raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with feigned sympathy. "Zara, how does it feel to hear him say, Break? Especially after all these years?"
A ripple of murmurs swept through the audience, and Zara felt their eyes gnawing into her soul.
She felt humiliated. Broken. But most of all, she felt furious.
Her tears threatened to fall but she swallowed them down, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break. "Where are the papers?" she asked, her voice stronger now, cutting through the suffocating air of the studio.
Zara rolled towards Ethan and Irene, their hands still intertwined, but the fear of Zara's reaction was palpable.
"Our relationship already lost its spark, so I won't hold it against you."
She leaned forward, her voice steady but her eyes blazing. "I will sign the papers…" She paused, letting the tension stretch, her eyes locked on Ethan's, "...under one condition."
Ethan swallowed, his grip on Irene subconsciously tightening. "What is the condition?"
Zara slowly bit her inner cheek, trying to conceal the pain of betrayal with a physical pain, something she could handle better to prevent the tears from streaming out.
"I get full custody of the kids." She announced, her voice was firm despite her shaky breath. "I don't want another lady raising my children."
Ethan was shocked by her condition, but his expression remained calm. Even though he had already been planning to divorce her, he somehow didn't think about the custody of their kids– or maybe it was because he just didn't think Zara would ever dare to make such a request. She has no way of raising two children on her own—or so she thought.
"W—we can talk about this another…"
"We are going to come to an agreement now!" Her voice was sharp, even the audience murmurs couldn't stop her.
Ethan might need a break from his family but he did sincerely love his children so it wasn't exactly something he could readily agree to. At the same time, he knew moving out of Chicago with them when his company wasn't even fully established would be a terrible idea.
Irene leaned in and whispered, "Babe, let her have them for now. You can get them back when you're ready."
Irene's words were the right trigger he needed to give the answer Zara desired, "Fine. You can keep them." He replied, forcing a fake calm that didn't quite match his personality.
Zara will never leave Chicago. So it isn't such a bad deal for him.
Zara didn't utter another word—despite the audience murmur. Despite the frantic words of the hostess who was desperately trying to make sure they knew what they were doing before she signed the papers.
The thoughts of starting all over again at 'a year to 30' clouded her head, deafened her ears, and forced a tear trickling down her eye as she scribbled her signatures into the paper after quickly reading it through.
Ethan was generous enough to give her a good amount as her alimony and also agreed to pay for the children's upkeep monthly. And the custody papers were provided by the TV show.
The only thing she had to her name was a degree in architecture which had been laying at home for the past 6 years. Even that certificate wasn't her dream.
All the while Ethan's gaze was fixed on the pen, expecting it to stop moving at some point in Zara attempts to resist the divorce. But when that didn't happen until the last page, he snapped, marching towards her and yanking her hand off the paper.
"What? You're just going to sign it without a fight— without begging me to stay back for the kids?" His voice rose, sharp with disbelief. "You— do you think you can survive with the kids without me?" his eyes narrowed, each word dripping with accusation.
He was the one asking for the divorce and yet, he was angry she was accepting it. Even when they went on a family trip five months ago to try to reignite the romance, divorce was the only thing that was on his mind—yet, his blood boiled seeing Zara finally take the bold step.
This made Irene writhe in her seat, squeezing the hem of her dress to suppress the anger.
Zara chuckled dryly, but by the time she raised her head to meet his eyes, they turned so cold that it sent chills running down his spine and he gently let go of her hand.
"I've begged, Ethan. Three years till today. I'm done trapping you with the kids." She said as she scribbled her signature on the last page of the paper.
Once it was all done, Zara struggled to her feet. She was a few inches shorter than him and had to raise her sparkling ocean blue eyes to stare up at him.
"Thanks for the most wonderful birthday present, Ethan Campbell." She smiled brightly. Handing the divorce papers, she added, "Here is my anniversary gift to you. I hope you cherish it for the rest of your life, because I will cherish mine."
Her gaze darted to Irene who was now standing behind Ethan, eager to see the papers.
The smile in her eyes disappeared as she locked eyes with Zara.
"Irene, thank you. For being my friend while teaching me what it's like to live with the enemy."
With that, she turned towards the studio exit, limping away while pushing her wheelchair in front of her. She gained some weight over the years, but just enough to show that she was more matured now, and had two kids. Her hourglass shape was still intact, because she didn't actually let herself go despite being a housewife.
She felt their stares boring into her back as she walked away.
Some audience booed, some clapped and some cheered but all Zara wanted at that moment was to disappear. From the studio. From their faces.
She wished. Begged. Hoped. That the ground would just open up and swallow her. But even that was a far fetched dream— just like her dream of being a Ballerina at 'a year to 30'. That too with a ruptured achilles tendon.
It was only once she was out of the studio that she sat back and accelerated the speed on her electric wheelchair.
Even though it was barely past 9pm, most of the stalls were closed because of the heavy rain. They had been in the studio for too damn long not to know it was pouring heavily.
But none of that bothered Zara. She wanted to escape. To cry her heart out without being heard. Under the rain looks like the best option.
She ran toward the highway that led to the hills, her tears falling freely as she wailed at the top of her voice.
The rain felt cleansing as it soaked through her clothes, washing away the makeup she had carefully applied. For the first time in years, she wasn't trying to look perfect. She wasn't trying to be anyone but herself. Or live for anyone.
Although she wasn't disappointed in what she had become, this wasn't exactly how she imagined her future.
She has always loved ballet and was naturally good at it. But her Dad didn't think it was a good idea.
"You are a Quinn! I will never let you become an exotic dancer." He was adamant in his demand even after Zara's desperate attempts to explain Ballet was different from exotic dancers.
He wanted her to be in the business world. To work alongside her brothers in running their Architectural and interior designing empire.
No one fully supported her, not even her Mom, so she decided to follow the path his father had chosen while building her career on the side.
Falling in love and getting pregnant wasn't part of the plan but when it came, she embraced it, thinking Ethan would go on the forever journey with her. That he will let her pursue her dream once their kids are mature enough.
Zara snapped her eyes open when her chair suddenly stopped, and realized she was in the middle of a rocky bridge a few meters off the main road. She had height issues causing her to immediately panic, fear quickly overcoming her pain.
The wind whipped at her long blonde hair as she gripped the wet railing, her knuckles turning white.
The roar of the river below was deafening, each surge of water sending fear through her body.
She pressed the buttons on the wheelchair again and again, but the battery stayed dead. Thunder rumbled in the distance, as if the storm itself was mocking her. Rain blurred her vision, drenching her silk gown until it clung to her body like a second skin.
"Please, not now," She whispered in fear.
Zara's wheelchair remained still on the uneven bridge, shrouded in darkness. Memories of how she became confined to the chair washed over her like relentless waves.
Ethan's distant expression, little Ella wobbling on her scooter, and the desperate dash to rescue her.
She could still hear the sickening snap as her feet twisted, the sharp pain mixing with the relief of holding her daughter, unharmed except for a small scratch.
But now, in the quiet of the night, that moment of relief felt like a fading memory, overtaken by the heavy burden of loneliness.
Gathering all her courage, she pushed herself upright, the pain in her legs shooting through her like bolts of electricity. She winced but steadied herself, her trembling hands still clinging to the icy metal of the railing. The bridge creaked beneath her weight, the slick surface threatening to undo her every step.
Step by agonizing step, she began to limp toward the other side. Rain stung her face, blurring her vision, but she didn't dare stop. Each movement was a fight against her own body, against the storm, against the river raging below.
Then her foot slipped.
The world tilted, and she let out a strangled cry as her hand lost its grip on the railing. Her legs buckled, and she
tumbled backward, hitting the wet metal floor of the bridge before rolling to the edge. She clawed at the slippery surface, her fingers searching for anything to hold on to.
"NO!" she screamed as her body slid over the edge.