ations had only increased, she had struggled to prioritise her career for weeks. She was conflicted between what she wanted and what she had always been told to do because of h

t her, his face unreadable. "I believe you understand my purpose for being here." Sebastian contacted Isabella later that night following the awkward encounter in her father's office. His tone was cold and robotic, and the message was brief: "We need to talk." His words were not consoling when they first met. No warmth. His tone was serious and determined to make amends, but it was not what she had hoped for. Without introducing himself, he said in an emotionless voice, "I'm proposing that we get married for the benefit of the infant. Isabella, your suggestion makes sense; we can maintain appearances and ensure the child's stability. We won't complicate things further, and you will be financially secure." A knot formed in her stomach. She had not envisioned her life like this. She had wished for something genuine, love, and connection. But here he was, giving her a life founded on obligation rather than love. He went on, "I'll marry you, but only for the child." He didn't say much more. The words felt like a shock to her. Her mind was racing, and she found herself unable to speak. Had such an incident really happened? Had they truly reached this point? With a tone of shock and hurt, she questioned, "Is that all I'm worth to you now?" Sebastian's jaw tightened and his eyes hardened. Isabella, it's no longer about us. The baby's well-being is at risk. Currently, that is all that matters. That evening, Isabella returned to her flat, her heart heavy from Sebastian's remarks. Sinking into the couch, she mentally reenacted the exchange. The pain of his apathy grew more intense each time. How did they end up here? Where had the love gone? She felt a deep sadness, but she also wanted to scream and fight back. She had not imagined this life for herself or her child. She had hoped for m