I held the pregnancy test in my hand, half-expecting it to flip back to negative. The reality of it all was still sinking in—I was going to be a mom. The shock was overwhelming, and I was struggling to process it all.
“Quit freaking out.” Emma’s voice startled me. “You’re not some high school kid who got knocked up. You’re a grown woman, for heaven’s sake!”
“I know, Em,” I replied, still in disbelief. “I love kids, and I’ve always wanted to start a family with Jake, but this…this is sooner than I expected.” I sighed, sinking onto her bed, the pregnancy test safely tucked away in my pocket.
“I get it, you’re scared. But think about it—you’re going to be a mom, and I’m going to be an aunt!” Emma’s voice wavered slightly. “I’m so happy for you.” She pulled me into a hug, and I found myself crying into her shoulder.
We were going to be parents. The reality of it all was finally sinking in, and I felt a wave of love for the tiny life growing inside me. I pulled away from Emma, placing a hand on my still-flat stomach.
I didn’t know how far along I was, but the thought of a little human growing inside me brought a smile to my face.
“So, when are you going to tell Jake?” Emma asked, wiping away her own tears and grinning at me.
“He’ll be home by six,” I replied, my mind already racing with possible reactions from him. I noticed he hadn’t responded to my text yet.
He must be swamped at work. I got up from the bed, a plan forming in my mind.
“He hasn’t replied to my text yet. I think I’ll head home and figure out a way to surprise him with the news,” I said, winking at Emma.
“Sounds like someone’s getting lucky tonight,” Emma teased, and I blushed at the implication.
“Em, stop it,” I playfully punched her arm.
“All right, let’s get you home,” Emma said, and we headed out the door. Once she dropped me off, I made my way up to our apartment, my mind already planning our wedding.
We’d have to set a date soon, before my baby bump became noticeable. I didn’t want people thinking we were getting married just because we were expecting. As I stepped out of the elevator, I was surprised to see Jake sitting on the couch, his back to me.
“Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home early? You didn’t even reply to my texts,” I said, wrapping my arms around him from behind and kissing his cheek.
He didn’t respond, and I felt a knot of worry in my stomach. Something was wrong.
He pushed my arms away and stood up, his eyes red and puffy. I’d never seen him like this before. Had he somehow found out about the pregnancy and was upset about it? But that was impossible.
“Why?” His voice was deep and strained, and I was at a loss.
“Jake, what’s wrong? What happened?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
He threw a piece of paper at me, and I bent down to pick it up. My heart sank as I read it—it was a bank statement showing a transfer of fifty million dollars from his account to mine, along with an IP address.
This looked really bad. Who would do something like this?
“Jake…,” I began, but he cut me off.
“The IP address is from your computer. The bank called me about the transfer, and that’s how I found out. You can keep the money,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
I felt like I was in a nightmare. This couldn’t be happening.
The worst part was that he believed it—he didn’t even ask me if it was true.
“Jake, this is some kind of sick joke. Do you really—” I tried to explain, but he interrupted me again.
“I want you to leave,” he said, his voice cold and distant.
He wouldn’t even look at me. I stood there, stunned, tears streaming down my face.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. I wanted to scream at him, to hit him. How could he believe a piece of paper over me?
I was supposed to tell him about our baby, and we were supposed to be happy. I wiped my tears and took a deep breath, deciding to ask him one last question.
“Do you really believe I would do something like this?” I asked, hoping he would deny it and pull me into his arms.
But he remained silent. I threw the paper at him and stormed out of the apartment, my heart breaking.
I’d never felt pain like this before. I wasn’t after his money.
Someone was trying to frame me, but I couldn’t think straight. I collapsed on the floor outside our apartment, sobbing uncontrollably.
Life was so unfair. I didn’t even want to explain myself—it was clear he trusted a piece of paper over me.
I knew things had been going too well, and something like this was bound to happen. It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.
I couldn’t stand to be in that building any longer. I managed to pull myself together enough to hail a cab and head to Emma’s.
I had nowhere else to go. It was funny how quickly life could change. I arrived at Emma’s with a blank expression, ringing the doorbell.
“Ash, what are you doing here? Have you been crying?” Emma asked, opening the door wide.
I walked in without saying a word.
“Can I stay here for a while, until I find a place?” I asked.
“Are you kidding? You can stay as long as you need to, Ash,” Emma replied, turning me around to look at me, worry etched on her face.
“Was he not happy about the baby? That bastard, I’m going to kill him,” she said, her anger flaring.
“He’s still in the dark. There’s something else going on. I need some space, Em.”
I trudged up the stairs to my childhood room, collapsing onto the bed and staring blankly at the wall.
How could someone who claimed to love me so deeply discard me so easily, without a second thought? Did he even know me?
We’d been together for two and a half years. This wasn’t like him.
Tears welled up in my eyes again. My heart yearned for his comforting embrace, for him to tell me everything would be okay.
But at the same time, I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him after the pain he’d caused.
He was oblivious to the fact that I was carrying our child. I thought about our unborn baby.
Would I have to raise it alone? I was at a loss.
I cried until exhaustion took over and I fell asleep.
I woke up late, around nine in the evening, and descended the stairs to find Emma pacing anxiously, phone in hand.
“Thank God you’re awake. I’ve been trying to reach Jake. His phone’s off, so I called Dan and Austin. They’re clueless but promised to check on him. What the hell happened, Ash? You need to tell me before I go and kill him myself. I know he hurt you.”
She stood with her hands on her hips, a determined look in her eyes.
I relayed the day’s events and she stared at me, disbelief etched on her face.
“Is he out of his fucking mind? Oh my god, he’s as good as dead. How could he? I thought he was smarter than this. Clearly, someone’s setting you up. How could he be so stupid to think you’d do something like this?”
I just shrugged, feeling emotionally spent. I didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. I felt numb. My eyes were puffy and red from crying.
“I don’t want you to do anything about this. I don’t even want to talk about it anymore.”
I buried my face in my hands, taking a deep breath.
“Let’s get you something to eat first. You’re pregnant, for God’s sake.”
She moved into the kitchen, starting to prepare something. I was too drained to argue that I wasn’t hungry. I was physically and emotionally depleted.
I picked up my phone, hoping for a message from him, saying this was all some sick joke. There was just a missed call from my mom. I choked back a sob. I longed to be home, to see my mom. I missed her terribly.
I decided to call her later, knowing she’d hear the sadness in my voice. I sent her a text instead, then switched off my phone and slumped onto the couch, feeling an immense void in my chest.
Emma returned, setting a plate of sandwiches in front of me.
“Eat. I’m not asking.”
She sat next to me, her gaze fixed on me.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat for your baby, Ash.”
Her voice softened and I gently touched my stomach, tears welling up in my eyes. She was right. I had to eat for my baby. I picked up a sandwich and began to eat slowly.
“I’m here for you, Ash. We can go to the doctor tomorrow.”
That was something I was supposed to do with Jake. Everything reminded me of him.
I nodded, setting the half-eaten sandwich back on the plate.
“I’m going to bed. Good night, Em.”
I trudged upstairs to wash my face. I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked pale, devoid of life. I quickly washed my face and crawled into bed, pulling the sheets tightly around me.
Sleeping without him felt strange. I missed his warmth, his presence. I missed everything about him. Why did things have to turn out this way? Why was I subjected to this pain?
I began to sob quietly. Was he even thinking about me? Were we officially over?
I glanced at the ring on my finger and cried harder. The saying was true—heartbreak hurts like a bitch.
