From Here, No More Us

First thing Leah Labelle did after Andrew Fillion's funeral? Ask her husband Ian for a divorce. Why? Because Ian's entire family thought the perfect way to honor his dead brother was to knock up the widow. Naturally. "My parents are threatening to hang themselves or starve, Leah. What was I supposed to do? It's just IVF with Cecilia—we're not even doing anything. Why are you making this a divorce thing?" Leah shut her eyes. Her chest cracked open, and the tears she'd been holding finally broke free. "Ian, we're MARRIED. You seriously don't think this is next-level insane?" Her husband was about to have a baby with someone else. But sure—she was the crazy one. Chapter 1 Harbor City, Carmoria Ian froze. Leah was crying—he almost reached for her. Then his phone buzzed. "Ian, get back here right now! Cecilia just swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills—she's trying to kill herself!" "What?!" He slammed the brakes, swerved onto the shoulder. "Leah, wait at the rest stop. I'll be right back." Rain pounded the windshield. She didn't move. Next thing—he was yanking her seatbelt off, shoving her into the storm. "This isn't the time for your drama! Someone's actually dying—why do you have to be so selfish?" She hit the ground hard. Mud soaked her dress. Rain slapped her face. Then he was gone. Her heart? Torched. Flashes of the past hit her hard. First time? Rumors at school. Everyone iced her out—until Ian tracked down the person who started it and shut it down. Second? Some creep of a landlord tried something. Ian beat him up and moved her out that same night. Third? Some unstable guy shoved her into a frozen lake. Ian didn't even hesitate—just dove in and yanked her back from the edge. Everyone used to say Leah was Ian's whole world. From girlfriend to wife, she really thought they'd make it. Grow old. Three years later? This. She walked the shoulder, rain hammering down. Her dress clung to her skin. Hair plastered to her neck. Heels tore her ankles raw. By the time she made it home, it was past midnight. She reached for the door—then heard Ian's voice inside, on speaker. "Ian, you're really doing IVF with Cecilia? Guess that childhood dream's finally happening, huh!" "Dude, you've been into her forever. Sucks she was into your brother. We all thought you'd never get a shot. Screw IVF—just go for it already!" "Shut up," Ian muttered. Then softer, "She's still grieving. Don't talk like that. But... I hope our kid looks like her." Laughter exploded on the other end. "If we'd known, you could've skipped all those dumb stunts—the fake rumors, the sketchy landlord, the nutcase at the lake. Why bother with the stand-in when the real deal was always better?" The world tilted. Leah gripped the doorknob like it was the only thing keeping her upright. So that was it. No wonder that classmate who ruined her got a random scholarship. No wonder the creep landlord never called the cops—and even handed back her deposit after getting wrecked. No wonder no one reported the lake incident. No wonder, the first time she met the Fillions, they said she looked like Cecilia... joked their family had a "type." It was all Ian. Every single piece, planned. Her chest felt crushed. She could barely breathe. Tears slid down, silent. Her phone buzzed. She answered on autopilot. "Leah, have you reconsidered Maestro Elio Vezzaro? He's absolutely the right choice! The deadline's in seven days. You're too talented to let this go!" Staring at the door, Leah wiped her tears with shaky fingers. "Prof. Calvo, you don't have to say more. I'll go." Chapter 2 "Really?!" Her mentor's voice shot through the phone. Leah gripped it tighter, that bitter taste crawling up her throat. God, she'd been such an idiot. Elio Vezzaro was the guy in wood sculpture—his stuff sold for wild money. People would kill to be his apprentice. And she gave it up... all because Ian once said, "Leah, I don't like long-distance relationships." She thought it meant he couldn't bear being away from her. Thought it was love. That sweet little lie made it all seem worth it. Now she knew—he didn't love her. Just her face. The one that looked too much like Cecilia's. "I'll be there on time in seven days, Prof. Calvo." She hung up. Ian had just finished his call, too. As she walked in and headed upstairs, he said, "To help with the pregnancy prep, Cecilia... she'll be staying in the guest room from now on." He rushed it out. "Don't take it the wrong way! I don't have a choice. She's a wreck—might do something stupid if she's alone. And... my parents want it, too." Leah paused. His twitchy look said everything. The corner of her mouth lifted. "Got it." What was he scrambling to cover? Her cool tone made something twist in his chest. Then he noticed her soaked clothes—and remembered. He was supposed to pick her up. Totally forgot once Cecilia spiraled. He moved toward her, guilt bubbling— Then Cecilia threw herself at him. "Ian, I dreamed of Andrew! He's mad I'm still here. I should've died! Why'd you stop me? Why won't you let me go?" She bolted. Ian grabbed her, wrapped her up, voice soft and full of pity. "It was just a nightmare. Nightmares mean the opposite, remember?" Leah watched them clinging to each other. She closed her eyes. Just for a second. Then turned and walked upstairs. Of course he didn't come home that night. While he was out, Leah pulled her suitcase from the closet and started packing. Quiet, slow. One piece at a time. By dawn, it was back in the closet. She stepped into the hallway. Passing the guest room, she stopped cold. Inside, Ian sat by Cecilia's bed, eyes soft—softer than Leah had ever seen. Not once. Not for her. For a second, the last few years flashed through her mind. Year one—she had a 102 fever, could barely stand. He left after one call. Said it was work. She heard Cecilia's voice in the background. Year two—business dinner. She got pushed into drink after drink, ended up with a bleeding stomach. Ian disappeared halfway through—another message from Cecilia. Year three. Four. Five... Same script, every time. She used to think it was all just bad timing. Now she saw it clear. Tears welled up, but she wiped them away before they fell. Seven more days. Then she'd be gone. *** At breakfast, Ian and Cecilia were already out. Leah headed to her atelier, just picked up her carving knife when her phone lit up—Cassie. [Leah! You won't believe this! I just saw Ian with his sister-in-law at the fertility clinic! Didn't his brother just die?! What's going on?!] Photos popped up right after—every angle. Ian had his arms around Cecilia, looking every bit the doting husband. A sharp hiss— Leah's carving knife slipped, slicing across her hand before she even realized it. Blood dripped from her palm—straight onto the wooden sculpture at her feet. It was Ian. She'd carved it herself. He used to tease, "Can't live without me, huh?" "Mm. You have to keep me company while I work." Now, staring at the blood-smeared thing, Leah picked it up, walked outside, and dumped it in the trash. She'd never need him again. Chapter 3 When Ian brought Cecilia home that night, he hesitated. Leah was eating alone. She used to wait up for him, no matter how late. He'd told her not to—she never listened. Now? Watching her eat solo like it was nothing, something twisted in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but Cecilia tugged his arm. "Ian, should we tell Leah about tomorrow's plans?" He turned to her. "Doctor said she's too tense lately—it might mess with the IVF. She needs to chill. She likes diving, so we're going." Leah stood up, headed upstairs. "Go ahead." She wasn't about to play along with their charade. Ian caught up before she could shut the door, yanking her hand hard. "Leah, I know you hate the IVF thing, but Cecilia's innocent! Why are you taking it out on her?" She dropped her gaze. The cut on her finger split open under his grip, bleeding through the bandage. All she'd said was no—and he was already jumping to defend the woman he loved. "Ian, she's your sister-in-law. Your brother's wife." That landed like a slap. He flinched, then snapped, shaking her off. "Leah, you're disgusting! I told you—it's just IVF! Nothing happened! "My parents want Andrew to have a kid! I can't let them die heartbroken, or let him be forgotten! Why can't you get that, just once?" Leah didn't answer. Just looked at him, quiet, while he tried to convince himself. Finally, he turned away, guilt flickering in his eyes as he walked out. Leah unwrapped the gauze. Blood pooled up again. Once, even a paper cut on her hand used to freak him out. Now? He didn't even notice this one. What Cecilia really was to him—sister-in-law or something else—only he knew. *** The next morning, Ian ignored Leah's protests and shoved her into the car. He and Cecilia took the front seats, leaving her stuck in the back. He used to hate talking while driving—said it wasn't safe. Now he and Cecilia were cracking up the whole ride. Off the coast, they changed into wetsuits and dove in. Half an hour later, Cecilia popped up. "Leah, you coming in?" She shook her head. "I can't swim." "Oh, really—" Cecilia suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Come on! Don't be lame!" Next thing Leah knew, she was yanked straight into the water. Leah gasped, panic hitting hard as she reached out—Cecilia was already gone. Cold seawater shot up her nose, filled her mouth. Her body sank fast, out of control. "Help! Ian! Help!" She thrashed, choking, until a figure sliced through the waves—Ian, eyes wide. "Leah, don't freak out! I'm coming!" Then a scream cut in behind him. "Ian! My leg—cramp! I can't move!" He froze. Cecilia was flailing, halfway under. Through the blur, Leah saw Ian glance at her—just once—then turn and swim straight for Cecilia. His back vanished into the waves. Her arms dropped. Whatever strength she had left drained out. As she sank, Leah closed her eyes, a faint, bitter smile tugging at her lips. What had she even been hoping for? Chapter 4 Leah jolted awake, gasping. The dream still clung—waves crashing in, pulling her under. No way out. She barely caught her breath before someone bolted over. "Leah, are you okay? You scared me to death!" Ian. Before she could say a word, he kept rambling. "Don't blame Cecilia, okay? She just wanted you to try diving. She didn't know you'd freak out. She got a cramp and almost drowned too. So... let's just call it even." Seriously? That was the first thing out of his mouth? Her chest tightened. She stared at him. "Ian, I almost died. Do you even hear yourself?" How could he say something like this? Ian frowned. "Why are you being so dramatic? You didn't die, did you? Cecilia almost drowned too—doesn't that even things out? "What, you want her dead just to feel better? You were never this unreasonable, Leah. Quit making a big deal out of nothing." A big deal out of nothing... Because unless she died, it didn't count. And if she had? He'd probably still say the same thing. She laughed under her breath and turned away. "I want to rest." "Fine. Figure it out yourself." He walked out without a glance. He didn't come back for two days. When the nurse came in to swap her IV, she smiled. "The couple next door is so cute. Husband hasn't left her side since the near-drowning. Makes me wanna fall in love too." Leah gripped the IV stand and stepped into the hallway. Yep. There he was. Ian. Sitting by Cecilia's bed, slicing apples and feeding her like some budget prince charming. She thought she could handle this. Nope. Her chest twisted hard. She turned to leave—froze. Cecilia was holding something. Leah stormed in, yanking it from her hands. "This is my competition piece! Where did you get this?!" Cecilia flinched, curling into Ian like some damsel on cue. "Ian..." He blinked, then instantly wrapped an arm around her. Of course. "I brought it. She said she liked it, so I let her see it. What's the big deal? You're talented, right? You'll make another. No need to yell and scare her." "Make another one?" Leah's voice cracked. "I spent four months on this." Four months. No sleep, skipped meals, even blacked out once. And he— Ian's expression darkened. "It's just a competition. So what if you skip it? You've already won a bunch. One less won't kill you." She stared at the ruined carving, vision blurring. "Ian, what am I to you? Did you ever love me? Even a little? Or was it always her?" Their voices echoed down the hallway. A few nurses stopped by the door. Ian jumped up. "What are you even saying? You've completely lost it! Come on, we're going to the doctor. I care about not making a scene—even if you don't." He reached for her. She jerked back. "Don't touch me!" The IV ripped out. Blood pooled fast in her hand. Ian froze. "Leah, you—" "I'm fine." Expression blank, she pressed her palm to the bleeding spot, crimson slipping through her fingers. "You two continue what you were doing." Chapter 5 Leah had no clue how long she'd been wandering outside the hospital. By the time she got home, it was past 3 a.m. She didn't bother with the lights. As her hand brushed the doorknob, she froze. Sobs. Quiet ones. From inside. "Ian, this is wrong. It's all my fault. We can't keep doing this!" Their clothes were already a mess on the bed. Cecilia's face was flushed, breath heavy with booze. "You're his brother. I can't—this isn't right! It was supposed to be IVF. Just IVF!" She tried to sit up. Ian caught her. He tensed, went quiet. Then, low and tight— "Cecilia, actually, I—" Leah stared at the floor outside the door. He wasn't gonna say it. Cecilia was his sister-in-law. He was still married. And none of that seemed to matter. His voice stayed flat, like he was talking business. "The doctor said IVF works, but natural's faster. We're both still young..." His hand slid to her waist. "Just think of me as Andrew." Cecilia shivered. "Ian..." Then came the breathing—slow, heavy, way too familiar. Leah couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Every sound from that room sliced into her, needle-sharp. By the time it was over, something in her cracked. She bolted, tore down the stairs, out the door, and collapsed by the roadside—retching until nothing came up. The tears wouldn't stop. Memories blurred in. Their wedding day. No parents to walk her down the aisle—just Ian, gripping her hand. "Leah Labelle, I'll love you for the rest of my life. You'll be the only one. Always." She'd cried so hard that day. Actually believed him. Three years later, those vows were trash. By morning, she wiped her face, caught a cab to the consulate, and applied for her visa. When she got back, the house looked untouched. Like none of it happened. And she pretended too. Like she hadn't seen a thing. But her suitcase was already out. She paused. Ian walked in, voice all careful. "The doctor said for IVF to work, Cecilia needs to prep her body and take supplements. She's careless, always forgets, so I need to keep an eye on her. I'm just doing what my parents asked. Once she's pregnant, we'll finally have time for us." Leah almost laughed. He didn't even flinch saying it. "Okay," she said. He lit up, pulled her into his arms. "I knew you'd understand. You're the sweetest, most thoughtful wife a guy could ask for." The scent of another woman's perfume clung to him. Leah swallowed the nausea, shoved him off, and started packing. She used to worry moving her stuff would tip him off. Now she had the perfect excuse. As she zipped her suitcase, Ian hovered. "Why are you taking everything? Cecilia moving in is just temporary. Later—" She smiled. "If I need something, it'd be annoying to come back for it." Chapter 6 Leah crashed in the guest room for the next few days, then made a beeline for the atelier every morning. Maestro Vezzaro didn't mess around when it came to talent. He wanted her latest sculpture on his desk, no excuses. Time? Ticking. Pressure? Through the roof. But something was off. She'd been dragging—like, eyes heavy, arms dead weight. Once, she literally passed out mid-sculpt. Not great. A chill crawled up her spine. Outside the hospital, Leah stared at the paper. The numbers were a joke. Her legs gave out, and she dropped into a chair. No freaking way. Back when she and Ian first got married, having a baby was the dream. They'd tried everything. Nothing worked. Eventually, Ian told her to stop stressing and just let it happen naturally. She'd finally made peace with never. But now... Her hand drifted to her stomach. Eyes red, heart pounding. 'Really, baby? Now?' Her phone buzzed. "Leah! Come quick! We've got good news!" *** When Leah pulled up to Ian's parents' house and stepped out of the car, she barely had time to speak before getting yanked inside. Everyone looked like they'd just won the lottery. "Leah! Cecilia's pregnant!" Her head snapped toward the couch. Excuse me—what? Cecilia actually blushed. "Jacquelin, don't." All fake modesty. "It's only been a few days. I haven't even seen a doctor yet." Jacquelin—Ian's mom—waved it off. "Oh, please. I've had two kids. I know the signs." Cecilia dipped her head, all shy smiles, one hand resting gently on her stomach. "Leah," Jacquelin said, beaming, "now that Cecilia's expecting, you'll have to take good care of her. After all, this is also..." Yeah. No need to finish that sentence. This wasn't just Cecilia's baby—it was Ian's too. Ian jumped in, quick. "Mom, you know Leah. Of course she'll take care of Cecilia." "Of course!" The whole room buzzed with excitement. No one even looked her way. Leah knew she couldn't dip just yet, so she slipped upstairs. She crashed for maybe twenty minutes before nausea slammed her. She barely made it to the bathroom. "Leah, are you okay?" She spun. Cecilia stood in the doorway—zero clue how long she'd been watching. Leah kept it cool. "Nothing." "Leah, I know you blame me, but I didn't want this either. It was Andrew's parents who pushed for it," she said, dragging a hand over her stomach. "And Ian agreed too." Leah didn't flinch. Just rinsed, wiped, and brushed past her. "I know." But as they passed, Cecilia grabbed her wrist. Her face twisted. "This child is my only one. No one's stealing his spotlight." Leah blinked. Then spotted the paper in Cecilia's hand. Her report. Panic exploded in her chest. She yanked her arm back, instantly covering her stomach. "What are you trying to do?" Cecilia's eyes locked on her hands. Her whole expression shifted—sharp, dangerous. "You shouldn't be pregnant. Not now. I'm not letting anyone steal the love meant for Ian's and my baby." Leah's pulse spiked. She turned and bolted. "Ian! Ian!" Cecilia came after her. "Shut up! I told them I was craving dried fruit, so they all ran off to get it. Right now, I'm the star. Me!" Leah spun, breath ragged, keeping her distance. "I'm not fighting you. I'll leave. Keep Ian. Keep the Fillions. I'm done." Cecilia's smile curled—feral. "You'll leave? That's not enough." Chapter 7 Leah saw Cecilia move and bolted down the stairs. Then—bam. A hard shove straight to the back. She flew forward, no control, slamming stair after stair until she crashed at the bottom. "Leah!" Ian's voice. Panicked. Too late. He stood frozen in the doorway, bag of dried fruit hitting the floor as he finally sprinted over. "Ah—!" But before he could reach her, Cecilia dropped like a drama queen, grabbing her stomach. "Ian, it hurts! My stomach—take me to the hospital!" He froze. Eyes flicked between Leah, bleeding and broken, and Cecilia, flopping around like she was nine months pregnant. Cecilia wailed again—louder this time. Ian hesitated maybe a second—then rushed right past Leah, scooping up Cecilia. "Leah, don't move! I'll take Cecilia first—I'll be right back!" Door slammed. Blood spread fast. Panic slammed harder. "Ian! Ian!" Her voice cracked, raw. She sobbed, clutching her stomach. 'My baby. My baby.' Ian paused. Just for a second. Her face—bruised, battered, still smiling after that crash—flashed in his head. She never broke. But this time... He almost turned. Then Cecilia whimpered, all breathy: "Ian, it hurts so bad... our baby—please..." 'Can't risk our baby.' He clutched her tighter and ran. Leah lay there, soaked in blood, shaking. Every inch screamed. She dragged herself forward, hand trembling as she reached for her phone. She dialed. Sirens sliced through the air. Then—slam. A car swerved in front of the ambulance. A paramedic yelled, "Car 6547, MOVE!" Leah's eyes fluttered open. Ian's car. He saw the lights, heard the sirens, started to pull over—then Cecilia let out another fake sob. Jaw clenched, he hit the gas. Inside the ambulance: "Dr. Palmer, we're losing her! The bleeding won't stop!" The doctor glanced at the blood-soaked drape. "We're out of time. Emergency surgery, now!" "But the car's still blocking us—what now?!" The driver didn't wait. He yanked the wheel, shot through traffic, blew the red. Leah barely hit the ER doors when Ian burst in with Cecilia in his arms. Before he could even open his mouth— "Patient Leah Labelle—severe hemorrhage from miscarriage. Any family here?" *** Hospital room. Leah blinked awake, hand flying to her stomach. Fingers caught hers—tight. "Leah, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I'll make it right—I swear." Ian. Pale. Shaking. But all she saw was him walking away—with Cecilia in his arms. She yanked her hand back. She already knew. The baby—the one she'd just found out about yesterday—was gone. Tears slipped down, quiet. Ian's voice cracked. "Leah, we can still have kids." She looked at him. 'Yeah. Just not with you.' Then asked, "Where's Cecilia?" He flinched. "She's... resting. It wasn't really her fault. You two just argued. It was an accident. "She's still pregnant, and we can't risk stressing her. You've... already lost the baby. We can't let her lose hers too." Her heart caved in. "Ian! That was our child! Our only child!" They'd wanted that baby more than anything. Barely three months along. "I know! I know!" He lunged, hugging her. "It's all my fault. Blame me, not her. She didn't mean it—she's just hormonal. Please don't hate her. I'll do anything to fix this. Just—please, forgive her." She stared at him. Still defending Cecilia. More tears came. She should've seen this coming. Ian started to speak—but his phone rang. Cecilia. Soft. Sweet. "Ian, my stomach's acting up again. Where are you?" Before he could answer, Leah cut him off. "Go." He looked at her, lost. Like he knew—she was done. He squeezed her hand before leaving. "Wait for me. I'll be back." The second he was gone, Leah sat up. A nurse rushed in, gently easing her back. "You just had a hysterectomy. You can't move yet." Hysterectomy. She froze. No uterus. No more babies. Ever. The nurse's voice gentled, eyes darting away. "If you'd just gotten here a little earlier..." 'If only I'd gotten there earlier.' She remembered the doctor shouting the license plate in the ambulance. Then—tears. Heavy as rain. Chapter 8 Leah bailed from the hospital early that morning, totally ignoring the doctor's orders. Most of her stuff was already packed—just a few last things to grab. Right as she hit the bottom step, Ian and Cecilia walked in. Ian rushed over. "Leah! You're not better yet. Why are you here? Come on, I'll drive you back." He reached for her arm, but she pulled back. "I'm good." He kept pushing. She didn't budge. He gave up. He carried her upstairs, set her down gently, pulled the blanket over her. "Leah, it's all gonna be okay." She didn't answer. Her phone buzzed. One glance—Cecilia had sent her a video. Her and Ian. Hooking up in the hospital bathroom. Ian sat there, waiting for her to say something. Right as he opened his mouth, Leah cut in. "What's the code to our safe?" Back when they got married, he'd signed a divorce agreement just to ease her mind, then locked it away. The password was six digits—split between them. A safety thing. Neither could open it alone. Ian didn't even blink. "Mine's your birthday. No clue what yours is." "Okay." At 3 a.m., Leah got up and cracked it open. Six numbers. Six years. Gone like nothing. There were two copies of the divorce papers. She signed them both and left them on the dining table. Then she opened the door, suitcase rolling behind her. Professor Calvo was already parked out front. He looked past her, toward the house. "Leah, your husband's not seeing you off?" She slid into the seat, buckled up, and chucked the phone she'd used for six years into the nearest trash bin. "No need." From that moment on, she was done needing him.