Chapter 5 – Between Two Men

"How long are you going to stay here and avoid me, Sierra?" That was the first thing Ronan asked after we hadn’t seen each other for three days since that incident. "I don’t want to waste time with small talk, Ronan. Can you help me gain custody of the baby I’m carrying—so it becomes ours?" I asked directly. "What? What do you mean? You still want to keep a baby that belongs to another man?" Ronan looked visibly irritated. "You don’t want anything to do with Caelan, right? Then just terminate the pregnancy. We can restart the sperm donor process." "You think it’s that easy? We’ve tried multiple times, and each attempt has failed. Only with another man’s sperm could I get pregnant. This is my child, Ronan. I won’t terminate it!" I responded firmly. "Don’t be selfish, Sierra. I’m your husband, and I can’t accept another man’s child!" Ronan’s voice was sharp. "And maybe you should get your eggs checked. Perhaps there’s a problem—since my sperm never succeeded in fertilizing anything." "You’re blaming my eggs now? You’re the one who should get tested. I conceived with another man’s sperm, so you might be the problem!" I snapped, deeply offended. I wouldn’t let him humiliate me like this. "I’m perfectly healthy, Sierra. You know that Rowena is pregnant with my child—and she didn’t even need a sperm donor from the clinic." Thud. "W-what?" I instinctively covered my mouth in shock. That woman... Rowena... is pregnant? "You got another woman pregnant?" I repeated, stunned. Ronan’s expression shifted in surprise—he hadn’t meant to say that aloud. "I... I didn’t mean—" Ronan tried to take back his words, but it was too late. I stepped back. My breath hitched. My body felt weightless, like my soul was drifting between reality and a nightmare. "Rowena is pregnant..." I murmured to myself. "So all this time... while I’ve been fighting to have a child—enduring endless health checks and emotional strain—you were sleeping with another woman? And she’s my friend?" Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. My heart shattered into pieces hearing what Ronan had just admitted. "Sierra, please, let me explain—" "Explain?" my voice rose an octave. "Everything’s already clear, Ronan! You destroyed all of this. Not just our marriage... but my trust!" My voice quivered toward the end. I looked at his face—he looked truly regretful now. But I didn’t care. The pain was too deep. "I’ve fought for this child alone, endured Caelan’s pressure, even prepared to lose everything—because I believed I had a home to return to. That you, my husband, would be there. But I was wrong." I took a deep breath, trying to contain the crushing weight on my chest. "We can still fix this, Sierra. What happened with Rowena was a mistake. I’ll protect you from Caelan, but first, you need to terminate the pregnancy," Ronan said. "Who dares suggest terminating my bloodline?" That voice froze me. I turned, and there stood Caelan—not far from us. How was he even here? Ronan looked just as shocked by Caelan’s sudden presence. He stood stiff, staring. Caelan’s footsteps echoed—slow but firm. His eyes were cold, piercing, and full of warning. A dark aura seeped into the room like a suffocating mist. "I’ll say it again," he said, his voice low but sharp like a blade. "Who dares suggest Sierra should terminate my bloodline?" Ronan clenched his jaw, trying to stay composed. But I saw his fists tighten and pupils narrow—he was clearly nervous. "This doesn’t concern you, Mr. Caelan. Sierra is my wife," Ronan said, his voice trembling slightly. "But the child she’s carrying isn’t," Caelan replied coldly, stepping closer. "And one thing you should remember, Ronan. Duskborne blood is not something you erase just because your ego is bruised." I stood between them, trembling. The tension was unbearable. I felt trapped between two men who both exhausted me in different ways. "Please stop!" I whispered, yet my voice echoed through the room. Both men turned to look at me. "No one will touch the child I carry. Not you, Ronan. Even though you’re my husband—you’ve betrayed me. And I can’t forgive you this time!" My voice trembled, but a new strength emerged. Strength born from heartbreak, betrayal, and the weight of a decision I had to make. "And Mr. Caelan, why are you here? I asked for time to consider, didn’t I?" I looked at the handsome man whose eyes sent chills through me. "Yes, you still have a few hours left. But frankly, I’m impatient," Caelan replied. "Mrs. Sierra, I don’t take rejection well. Not in any matter. So I suggest you think very carefully." I held my breath. The way he said that last sentence—it wasn’t just a statement. It was a cold, silent threat. Caelan was terrifying. Ronan stepped forward. "You think you can just barge in here and act like Sierra’s... like she’s your possession? Mr. Caelan, maybe you’re my boss at work, but here—I’m Sierra’s husband!" Caelan slowly turned. His gaze darkened—sharper, deadlier. "I don’t need to claim Sierra as mine. The truth is—" he stepped closer, staring at me briefly before locking eyes with Ronan again, "—she’s carrying my blood. And that’s more than enough reason for me to act." I stepped back. My heart pounded. This argument had to end. "I’m not an object. And I’m not a vessel for anyone’s bloodline," I finally said, unable to hold it in. "I’m a human being. And I—I have the right to choose. You don’t get to decide what I do with my body. Or my life." Caelan was silent. There was something in his eyes—rage, maybe admiration—I couldn’t tell. I could never fully read him. And that terrified me. "Sierra..." Ronan whispered, as if reaching out to reconnect. "Let’s go home. We need to finish this conversation." I laughed bitterly. "Home? Ronan, the place you once called ‘home’—doesn’t exist anymore." Ronan fell silent. I closed my eyes for a moment. My breath was shaky. But when I opened them again, my gaze was steady. "Neither of you gets to decide my future." Caelan folded his arms. "Then what is your decision, Mrs. Sierra?" I looked at them both. "I still have a few hours left to decide, don’t I?" Caelan gave a slight nod, understanding. He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded again. "Very well. But remember, Mrs. Sierra—when the time runs out... I will return. And by then, there will be no negotiations." He turned and walked away—leaving behind a gust of cold night air that somehow felt even colder than before. Once the door shut, Ronan approached me. But I stepped back. "Don’t. Don’t touch me!" "Sierra..." "I’ll be filing for divorce soon," I whispered, yet with conviction. "This time... I’m letting you go. So go and be happy with your mistress, Ronan." ***