You shivered in the cool Spanish air. You had left Marc's home in only a pair of pajama shorts and a large t-shirt, one of his t-shirts you noticed distastefully. Having gotten out of your car, you ran the doorbell to a familiar house. The doorbell was on the wall outside their house, to protect them from crazy fans and such. "Hello?" Shakira asked through the speaker.

"It's me, (Y/N). Marc cheated on me, can I come in? I have nowhere else to go," you sighed. The gate immediately moved to the side. You got back into your car and drove up the driveway, parking in front of the large house. By the time you got out, Shakira was already standing on the porch. You locked your car and walked up to her.

"Let's get you inside, it's freezing out here," Shakira stated, leading you inside with an arm around your shoulder. Handing you a cup of tea, you sat across from her at her dining room table.

"I hope I didn't disturb you," you said.

"I was already up. Sasha was being fussy and Gerard sleeps like a rock so I had to get up anyways," Shakira smiled. "How do you feel?"

"Crappy," you rubbed your face tiredly. "I just can't believe he would do that to me, especially while I'm pregnant," you babbled.

"Boys are stupid. Trust me, I'm living with three of them. What did he say?"

"He begged me to stay and I just walked out. I was done with him. I am done with him," you corrected yourself.

"So you're getting a divorce?" Shakira questioned. You nodded.

"I've given him more than enough chances. We'll work out custody after the baby is born but I never want to share a room ever again with Marc Bartra," you assured Shakira, spitting out the name Marc Bartra like it was a curse.

"Well you are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you need," Shakira offered.

"Thank you. I think I'll stay in Spain until the baby is born. After that I think I'll leave," you informed.

"Where will you go?" Shakira spoke.

"Home. I haven't seen my family in forever, they live in England. Or maybe America or France, wherever he isn't," you vowed. You weren't dealing with Marc Bartra ever again. Shakira nodded.

"Just know that we all support you here. When's your due date?"

"In six weeks but the stress might just cause a premature birth," you muttered.

"Forget about him. Focus on yourself and your baby for now." You nodded and yawned. Shakira led you upstairs to a guest bedroom. You thanked her graciously again before going to sleep quickly. You got up the next morning, checking your phone. You texted Martha that you needed to talk with her and Pedro before getting out of bed. Shakira was once again gracious enough to let you borrow some of her old maternity clothes.

You bid Shakira and Gerard goodbye for the day before driving to Martha's office. Not even bothering to knock, you walked straight into her office. She sat behind her desk. "I'll be with you in a second," she whispered.

"I need to talk to you right now, it's urgent," you declared. She gave up the one finger sign to wait. Not in the mood to deal with anyone, partially due to Marc and partially due to your pregnancy hormones, you stormed to her desk. Grabbing her phone from her hand, you spoke into the phone. "I'm afraid Martha can't get to the phone at the moment, she'll call you back later," you stated into the phone before hanging up. Tossing the phone aside you leaned on Martha's desk.

"That was an important call with NBC, they wanted to interview you—"

"—I want to revoke the contract between me and Marc," you interrupted.

"What? You can't do that!"

"I can and I will. He cheated on me multiple times and I am fed up with his shenanigans."

"It's a fake relationship! You can both do whomever whenever and no one gets hurt."

"That was before the marriage and a baby came into it. I'm not raising my child around a cheating father and a home wrecker!" you shouted.

"As your agent—"

"—As my friend you should care about my well-being more than some stupid money scandal!"

"It's not as simple as that, (Y/N). As long as all parties that signed the contract are intact there cannot be revocation. All members of the contract have to agree to revoke it before it can actually be revoked."

"Well I'm about to make this much simpler then. You're fired," you stated, turning around and leaving the room.

"What!? You can't fire me! You need me!" Martha cried hysterically.

"Watch me. There are plenty of people out there who can get me the divorce deal I want. Since you won't, I'm afraid I have to find some new help. Have a nice life, Martha. I'll be sure to recommend you to the authorities for tax fraud," you smirked, walking out of the room. Martha screeched profanity behind you. You grabbed your phone and called one of your friends form the marketing business.

"Hey, Diego, could you possibly help me out? Are you free for the next week?" you asked, walking out to your car.

"I'm free. Tell me date and time and I'll show up," Diego replied.

"Thank you so much, I owe you one," you smiled, starting your car. You called Pedro and told him and Marc to meet you at headquarters. You texted Diego the details before driving to headquarters. Walking into the tall building, you immediately reserved a meeting room. The room was cleared the hour before and was free the rest of the day. You requested the fake relationship contract from the safe while you waited for Marc, Diego, and Pedro to show up. Informing the lady behind the desk on where to direct the three individuals, you took the elevator up to the meeting room you had reserved.

You sat down and set the contract on the table. Pedro and Marc entered together. You motioned to the seats across from you. Without looking Marc in the eye, you slid the contract forward. Pedro looked at it before turning his attention to you. "So why have you called myself and my client here today, Mrs. Bartra?"

"As you can see gentlemen, Martha is not joining us today," you stated. "She's been removed from the situation. Which brings me to my next point. I would like to dissolve the contract."

"What?" Pedro asked, in complete disbelief. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Your client here, happens to be a repeat offender in cheating. I would therefore like to separate myself from your client. However, I am bound to contract. I need your authorization to dissolve the contract." Pedro whispered to Marc before standing up.

"Me and Mr. Bartra have a few things to discuss." They left the room. A few seconds later, Diego entered the meeting room. You got up and greeted him. You had met him through your singing career and the two of you had become fast friends. He was a successful lawyer and had represented some of the biggest prosecution cases in Barcelona over the past few years. Marc and Pedro reentered the room.

"Who is this?" Marc asked, glaring at Diego.

"I am Ms. (Y/L/N)'s lawyer and representative at the moment, Mr. Bartra."

"She's married," Marc growled.

"Not for long," you thought to yourself.

"We just have a few questions before we revoke the contract."

"Proceed," you ordered.

"Are you going to seek a divorce with Mr. Bartra?"

"My main priority at the moment is making sure I have a safe home for my child once he's born. That cannot be guaranteed at Mr. Bartra's residence which is why I left."

"I assure you that Mr. Bartra's residence is perfectly capable of being a safe home to raise a child in," Pedro countered.

"Sure the house is wonderful. I was talking about the people that would be residing in the home. Mr. Bartra has had a history of cheating on me and could easily bring home a stranger in a drunken stupor. That is not a suitable home for a child to grow up in," you replied coldly.

"Those are in the past, Mrs. Bartra, I can assure you Mr. Bartra will not do so in the future," Pedro smiled, trying to ease rising tensions.

"I'm afraid your word, or Mr. Bartra's for that matter, is not good enough for me. People lie too easily, as I have found out recently," you boomed, sending an icy glare towards your estranged husband.

"Well . . . will Mr. Bartra have child rights if the two of you continue to separate?"

"Of course, I have no intent on robbing my son of a father figure. However, if Mr. Bartra gives me a single doubt that he is not capable of caring for our child I will immediately revoke the rights," you decided.

"Very well, we will revoke the contract." Pedro took the contract to be removed from the database and disposed of it as well. Marc sat in his chair, unmoving as you and Diego got up. You turned and left the room, not sparing him another glance. You had contacted Pedro later and you two arranged a date that you would go and remove your stuff from Marc's home. You hopped out of your car and waddled up to the front door. Knocking lightly, Marc instantly opened the door.

He stepped aside and you walked in. Marc had gotten cardboard boxes for you to use to transport your things. You went room by room, grabbing your clothes, pictures, and other belongings. You left anything Marc had bought you. Marc was gracious enough to carry the boxes down to your car for you. The last room you had to clear your stuff from was your bedroom. Emerging from your closet, you looked around the large room. You remembered the night when it all went wrong, second by second.

You grabbed your pictures and jewelry that was lying around, stuffing them into a box. Marc entered the room. You ignored him and continued your searching. "Please just look at me, (Y/N). Humor me enough to do that," Marc pleaded. You stood sharply and turned to look at him.

"You don't even deserve to be in my presence after all the shit you put me through," you growled.

"I'm sorry, okay. I made a mistake!"

"Mistakes," you corrected. "And you can't just accidently go on a date with someone, that's not how it works Marc."

"What like you and that Diego guy? I saw the looks you gave each other. Were you cheating on me with him?"

"You cheated on me with multiple women multiple times over multiple years and you have the audacity to call me out like that? Unbelievable! Diego and I are just friends! For god's sakes he's married, but then again that didn't stop you from sleeping around," you spat.

"Just own up to it, (Y/N). When you left here, you went to his house, right?!"

"Your jealousy blinds you, Marc. I have no feelings for Diego. I did have some for you but every time I tried to connect with you, you would sever ties. Sorry I grew tired of being abused by your hormones!"

"I never even slept with her, (Y/N)!"

"Oh ok, so you just made out with her and she texted you nudes. Yeah, I'll believe that," you rolled your eyes.

"I'll telling the truth, (Y/N)!"

"So am I! You think I want to be cheated on by you for the rest of my life! I can't even trust you to go to training without seeing another girl behind my back!" You screamed.

"I told you I was sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't cut it anymore, Marc!" The two of you continued to scream back and forth, your voices rising a decibel with every passing moment. "I f-ing hate you Marc Bartra!" you screamed. You stopped short, feeling a wetness glide down your leg. Your face went ghost white.

"That's all you f-ing got! I thought someone like you would've had a more structured comeback."

"Marc, the baby's coming," you whispered. Marc raised an eyebrow.

"I can't hear you, your shrill scream made me go deaf—"

"I'm going into labor with your child!" you screeched to your estranged husband. Marc's eyes widen. The pain hit you like a ton of bricks and you doubled over, groaning in pain. Marc rushed over and picked you up into his arms.

"Time to see our baby," he muttered, rushing out of the house.

A.N. Since it took me forever to post, I decided to make it a little longer than usual. Sorry it took forever.