Sold to Bastard Alpha after My Divorce! novel Chapter 77

Chapter 77: Chapter 77

Aria’s POV

Two months at the Quick Stop Mart.

Two months of twelve-hour shifts, aching feet, and Gary’s wandering eyes. Two months of stocking shelves, cleaning toilets, and smiling at customers who looked right through me like I was invisible.

I straightened up from restocking the bottom shelf, pressing my hand against my lower back. The ache was constant now. Not just from the work. From the tiny life growing inside me, making itself known in ways I couldn’t ignore anymore.

My uniform was getting tight.

I’d noticed it last week. The way the fabric stretched across my midsection. The slight roundness that no amount of baggy shirts could completely hide.

I was showing.

The thought made my heart race with equal parts terror and wonder. This was real. This baby was real. And soon, everyone would know.

"Yo, Aria!"

I looked up. Jenny was waving at me from behind the register. She was the only other regular employee—a middle-aged woman with faded tattoos and a laugh that could crack glass. She was rough around the edges, but she’d been kind to me. Kinder than anyone else in this place.

"Yeah?"

"Take your break! You’ve been going for four hours straight."

I glanced at the clock. She was right. Time had a way of disappearing when you were trying not to think.

"Thanks."

I grabbed my water bottle and headed to the small break room in the back. It wasn’t much—just a folding table, two plastic chairs, and a microwave that smelled like burnt popcorn. But it was quiet. Private.

I sank into the chair and closed my eyes.

The baby kicked.

Just a flutter. Barely there. But I felt it.

My hand flew to my stomach. Tears burned in my eyes.

"Hey there, little one," I whispered. "I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere."

Whatever others thought of me didn’t matter anymore. I had someone who needed me now. Someone who would love me unconditionally.

The afternoon rush was brutal.

A busload of tourists got lost and ended up at our crappy little convenience store. They bought everything that wasn’t nailed down—chips, sodas, energy drinks, those weird hot dogs that had been spinning on the roller grill since morning.

I rang up purchase after purchase, my back screaming, my feet throbbing. But I kept smiling. Kept saying "have a nice day" like I meant it.

This was my life now. And I was grateful for it. Truly.

Around four o’clock, the rush finally died down. Jenny was restocking the cigarette display, humming some old country song under her breath.

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