Updated Feb 23, 2026 • ~5 min read
POV: Rory
Court day.
I almost don’t go.
But something makes me get dressed. Show up.
Maybe I need closure.
Maybe I need to see Dominic one last time before I decide about the baby.
I don’t know.
I just know I need to be there.
The courtroom is the same as before.
Judge Morrison presiding.
Lawyers on both sides.
But this time, Celeste isn’t here.
Just me. And Dominic.
We sit on opposite sides.
He looks at me. I look away.
Judge Morrison reviews the paperwork.
“I see Mrs. Ashford—Celeste—has withdrawn her annulment petition.”
Dominic’s lawyer nods. “Yes, your Honor. And my client is requesting that the court recognize his marriage to Ms. Bennett as valid and legally binding.”
What?
I look at Dominic. He’s staring straight ahead.
“Ms. Bennett,” the judge looks at me. “You withdrew your putative marriage petition last week. Has that changed?”
Rebecca stands. “My client would like to reinstate her petition, your Honor.”
I didn’t tell her to do that.
She looks at me. Mouths: “Trust me.”
“Very well,” Judge Morrison says. “Mr. Ashford, can you explain the change in circumstances?”
Dominic stands.
“Yes, your Honor. Celeste—my first wife—realized that our marriage ended five years ago. Not because of paperwork, but because we’re different people. She’s moved out. She plans to file for divorce. She wants me to be happy. And I’m happy with Rory.”
My heart clenches.
“Ms. Bennett,” the judge turns to me. “Do you want this marriage recognized?”
I should say yes.
I’m carrying his baby.
We should be together.
But looking at him, all I feel is pain.
The kiss. The weeks of indecision. The constant choosing between us.
Can I forgive that?
Do I want to?
Before I can answer, pain shoots through my abdomen.
Sharp. Wrong.
I gasp.
“Ms. Bennett?” the judge asks.
Another pain. Worse.
I double over.
“Rory!” Dominic’s voice.
Then everything blurs.
I wake up in a hospital bed.
Priya is holding my hand.
“What happened?”
“You collapsed in court. They brought you here.”
“The baby—”
Her face tells me everything.
“No,” I whisper.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No no no—”
“The stress. The emotional trauma. Your body couldn’t—”
“Where’s the baby?”
“Rory—”
“WHERE IS MY BABY?”
A doctor appears. Kind eyes. Sad smile.
“Ms. Bennett. I’m Dr. Patel. I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’ve had a miscarriage. We did everything we could, but—”
“How far along was I?”
“About eight weeks.”
Eight weeks.
Two months.
I was pregnant for two months and didn’t know.
And now…
“Can I—can I see—”
“There’s nothing to see. It was very early. I’m sorry.”
Nothing to see.
My baby. Gone.
Like it never existed.
“Who knows?” I ask. “About the baby?”
Priya and the doctor exchange looks.
“Mr. Ashford,” the doctor says. “He was very insistent about being informed of your condition.”
Oh God.
Dominic knows.
“Where is he?”
“In the waiting room. He’s been here for three hours.”
“I don’t want to see him.”
“Rory—” Priya starts.
“I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to be alone.”
They leave.
I lie in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling.
I lost the baby.
I lost Dominic’s baby.
The one thing that might have—
No.
No, a baby shouldn’t save a marriage.
But this baby was mine. Ours.
And now it’s gone.
Hours later, Dominic appears anyway.
He looks wrecked.
“I told them I didn’t want to see you,” I say.
“I know. But I needed—I needed to know you’re okay.”
“I’m not okay. I lost our baby.”
“I know.”
“Did you know I was pregnant?”
“Not until today. The doctor told me.”
“I was going to tell you. After I figured out what I wanted.”
“And what did you want?”
“I wanted to not be pregnant during a divorce.”
He sits in the chair next to my bed.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “For all of it. The kiss. The indecision. For not fighting for us when I should have.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring back our baby.”
“I know.”
We sit in silence.
“I told the judge I choose you,” he says.
“I heard.”
“Did you believe me?”
“I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
“Celeste is gone. She dropped the annulment. She’s moving on. There’s nothing stopping us from being together now.”
“Except everything that’s happened. You kissed her. You couldn’t choose. You made me fight for you for weeks while you sat on the fence.”
“I know. And I’m sorry.”
“And now I lost our baby because of all the stress and chaos and—”
I’m crying.
He reaches for my hand.
I let him take it.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “About the baby. About everything.”
“Me too.”
“Can we—can we try again? Start over?”
“I don’t know if I can trust you again.”
“Then let me earn it back. Please. Give me a chance to prove I choose you. That I’ll always choose you.”
I look at him.
This man I love. Who broke my heart. Who lost our baby through no fault of his own but through the circumstances we created.
Do I give him another chance?
Do I walk away?
“I need time,” I say.
“How much time?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t—I can’t do this right now. I just lost our baby. I need to grieve. Alone.”
He nods. Stands.
“I’ll wait. As long as you need. I’ll wait.”
He leaves.
And I lie in that hospital bed, mourning a baby that almost was.
A future that might have been.
And a love that survived death and comas and legal battles but might not survive the weight of grief.
END OF CHAPTER 20 / END OF ACT TWO
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