No Going Back

7 - 1

Floria

Ayah, meaning sign of miracle, was the perfect name for my daughter - the heavenly treasure who brought the dying light back to my life, a precious blessing I would cherish every day.

I didn't wait for Antonio; he had no right to name her after abandoning us twice. His absence still stung, but I preferred the ache of his absence over the agony of his presence.

I stared at the harsh glare of the afternoon sun streaming through my hospital room window, I felt lost, my gaze drifting as I struggled to grasp onto the fragments of light with these suffocating shadows of dark that enveloped me.

For eight exhilarating months, I'd anticipated the joy of meeting my daughter, nourishing her growth with every bite, picking names, but now her smooth and healthy arrival had been jeopardized by her Father's infidelity as she lay there.

I was supposed to be dancing with happiness and I was in my mind, but beneath the surface, a hollow ache digging a void, sucking the vitality from my veins, leaving me drained, so empty.

And despite the fractures in my soul, I had to produce the resilience to stand strong for my child and myself, drawing strength from the women who'd endured the same betrayal.

Their stories, often dismissed or downplayed by the world, echoed through my mind, fueling my determination to rise above this pain. For every silenced voice, every shattered heart, I vowed to hold my head high, refusing to let this uncalled death envelope me. My daughter deserved a mother who embodied courage, and I would not falter fulfilling her rights.

My parents had left to consult with an attorney, determined to build an airtight case against Antonio. I knew him all too well - he'd stop at nothing, sacrifice his bones to get his way, to stand victorious. But I put my life on the stand too, cradling it like a fragile petal, ready to do go beyond to shatter the chains that bound me to him. Every fiber of my being screamed for freedom from the man who had once promised me his undying loyalty.

The love I once had for Antonio had transformed into disgust with stunning speed, leaving me stupified. Respect gave way to seething resentment, as if the very foundation of our relationship had been dynamited. The destructive power of Cheating had bombed our marriage sudden and swift, devastating, and leaving irreparable scars, our life together laid scattered at my feet, beyond recognition.

Despite the depth of my love for Antonio, the doubts were lurking, that I'd been living a fragile illusion. That I had desperately tried to convince myself that he belonged to me, that his heart beat solely for me. That I'd clung to the notion that, flaws and all, I held his unwavering respect and loyalty.

Had I been blind to reality, convincing myself of a love that wasn't entirely true? Was I truly the only one he saw, or was I just a priced possession? I had no answers for the questions in my head, he had ripped me off.

The nurse arrived to take my vitals and handed me the medicine Aubrey's aunt had recommended.

"Can I visit my daughter please?" I asked to see my daughter, and she agreed, but with a gentle warning:

" As long as you don't cry and you take care of yourself, okay?" Her sympathetic gaze hinted that the hospital staff had picked up on the tension between Antonio and me. The embarrassment stung, but it was overshadowed by the ache in my heart. Everyone seemed to know my marriage was crumbling, and I couldn't hide the pain.

I made my way to my daughter's side, with deliberate steps, aided by the nurse and my IV stand. Gazing at her peaceful face, I felt a surge of gratitude. She is my lifeline, the one thing keeping me sane. Without her, I'd have shattered into uncountable pieces. My mind had already defeated the anguish of crying out on my knees, but my exhausted body couldn't muster the strength to unleash the tears. Instead, I stood there, frozen, drinking in the serenity of her sleeping form.