The Fracture Line

Barcelona – Two Months Later

The morning sun spilled through the windows of the loft, casting golden light across canvases and rugby gear strewn like breadcrumbs across their shared life.

Ronan stood shirtless in the kitchen, flipping pancakes, humming a song she didn't know he knew. Aria leaned against the doorway, a small swell in her belly now unmistakable, a quiet miracle.

"You're humming Coldplay," she said, grinning.

He glanced back with mock horror. "Damn. You caught me being soft."

She stepped in, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. "You've always been soft. Just in well-armored packaging."

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "Only for you."

Later That Week – Gallery Meeting

Aria sat across from Isla, her former mentor and closest confidante in the art world, sipping a flat white as they reviewed her latest portfolio.

"You're glowing," Isla said, eyeing her thoughtfully. "Pregnancy suits you."

Aria smiled. "It's terrifying and amazing."

"I bet. Listen, I'm glad you stayed in Barcelona. It's good for your work. Your color palettes have changed—warmer, more grounded."

"That's Ronan's influence."

Isla tilted her head. "Speaking of him… you trust him?"

Aria blinked. "Of course."

"No shade," Isla said quickly, "just… you know his reputation. Men like him usually don't settle."

Aria tensed. "He's not like that anymore."

Isla's smile thinned. "Sure."

Meanwhile – Ronan's Training Camp

"Nice form today," Coach Silva said, patting Ronan's shoulder as he cooled off.

"Thanks," Ronan muttered, rubbing his knee. A familiar ache had started to creep in again.

One of his teammates—Diego, a loudmouth forward with too many opinions—jogged up beside him. "So, Coach says you're sticking around for good? No contract with the national team?"

"I made my choice," Ronan said simply.

Diego snorted. "All that potential and you gave it up for some artsy girl."

Ronan's eyes narrowed. "Watch it."

Diego raised his hands, mock-innocent. "Just saying. We all know she turned down Paris for you. Don't act like it's not pressure."

Ronan walked away before he did something he'd regret.

That Night – At the Loft

Aria sat on the couch, sketchbook in her lap, frowning.

"I saw Isla today," she said as Ronan came in.

"Yeah? How'd it go?"

"She was weird. Cautious. Said something about trust."

Ronan raised an eyebrow. "What, like I'm still the devil in disguise?"

"She didn't say that," Aria said quickly. "But she hinted it."

He sat beside her. "You believe her?"

"I trust you. But I also trust my gut—and Isla's never said anything without a reason."

A pause.

Then: "Did something happen, Ronan?"

"No," he said, without hesitation.

But something in his tone made her chest go tight.

The Next Morning – A Shocking Discovery

Aria hadn't planned to open Isla's email that day, but curiosity won.

The subject line: "You need to see this. I'm sorry."

Attached: a photo.

Ronan. Shirtless. Smiling. At a party. A girl beside him—model-perfect—arms draped around his neck. The photo was dated just three weeks ago.

Aria felt the air leave her lungs.

The caption Isla added: You told me you trusted him. Just make sure he deserves it.

The email dropped from her hands. Her pulse roared in her ears.

Later That Night – Confrontation

Ronan came home late. Training had run long.

"Hey," he called, setting down his bag. "Smells like—"

"Who is she?" Aria's voice was ice.

He froze. "What?"

Aria turned the laptop to face him. The photo glowed between them like a curse.

"I can explain," he said quickly.

"You'd better."

Ronan took a breath. "That was after a charity event. The girl's a model working on a sportswear line. She came up, flirted. Someone took a picture. Nothing happened, Aria."

"She's all over you."

"Because I didn't want to make a scene. It meant nothing."

"You should've told me."

"I didn't want to make it a thing."

"But it is a thing, Ronan. Because I turned down the biggest opportunity of my life to be here. I trusted you."

"And I've never broken that trust," he said, stepping closer. "Not once. But if you think that photo is enough to unravel us—"

"I don't want it to unravel us," she whispered. "But I'm scared. Because you're still that guy to the world. And I don't know if I can keep fighting to see the man I know is under all that noise."

Ronan's voice cracked. "I am that man, Aria. For you. For our kid. But if you don't believe that…"

She stepped back, arms crossing over her chest protectively. "I need time."

He nodded slowly, heartbreak in his eyes. "I'll give you whatever you need."