Chapter 1I was Blake Harrison's sweet, teary-eyed girlfriend—
the one everyone in our circle knew he spoiled rotten.
The day I found out I was pregnant,
I rushed to his usual spot to tell him.
Instead, I caught him saying to his boys:
"Marry her? I only started dating her because I lost a bet."
One of his buddies called him out:
"Then what's with that hair tie you've worn for five years straight?"
Blake ripped the scrunchie I gave him off his wrist and tossed it on the floor.
"You know how she is—I don't wear it, she cries. Honestly? It's exhausting."
When his friend still looked doubtful,
Blake pulled out a wedding invitation and dropped it on the table:
"I'm getting married next Saturday. To Sabrina Caldwell."
Later,
after I ended the pregnancy and disappeared,
he was the one falling apart, searching EVERYWHERE for me.
...
I stood outside the door, clutching the ultrasound report so hard my hands shook.
Blake's friends passed the invitation around:
"Wait—Sabrina Caldwell? Your high school obsession?"
"Dude, she moved to Paris because of your girlfriend. You two stayed in touch this whole time?"
"No wonder you finally ditched that scrunchie—your real girl's coming home!"
One guy picked the hair tie off the floor, holding it between two fingers.
"Only Maddie would give you dollar store crap like this. Sabrina bought you that Patek Philippe sophomore year—what was that, six figures?"
"Bro, I'm trashing this for you right now."
Blake's hand jerked up to stop him—then he saw me in the doorway.
His arm dropped. All the color left his face.
"Maddie..." His voice came out weird and tight.
"What are you doing here? You hate places like this."
I looked at him once,
then stepped forward and yanked the scrunchie from his friend's hand.
That "dollar store crap"?
My grandmother bought it for me when she was dying.
She could barely walk, but she made it to the corner store on her cane just to get me this one with the little stars.
She said when she was gone, she'd become a star and watch over me.
That scrunchie was everything she had left to give me.
The last piece of the person I loved most.
The day Blake and I got together, I gave it to him. Told him what it meant.
I still remember how carefully he put it on. The promise he made.
But he forgot.
I brushed the dust off and slipped it back onto my wrist.
It was faded now, stretched thin, barely holding together.
My eyes stung. Tears spilled over.
But I didn't look at Blake. Not once.
His jaw tightened. When he spoke, his voice came out sharp:
"Jesus, you're crying again? I was messing around with my boys. Do you have to make everything a thing?"
"Can you quit it with the tears for once? You act like I'm some monster."
His friends saw Blake's mood shift and scrambled to smooth things over:
"Maddie, come on—Blake was just playing. He's worn that thing for five years. He wouldn't actually toss it."
I ignored them. Walked straight up to Blake.
Our eyes locked. His flickered with panic, then irritation—like I'd embarrassed him in front of everyone.
His jaw set. His expression went cold.
I knew that look. He was waiting for me to cave like I always did.
No. I was done.
I stared right back at him.
When I opened my mouth, he grabbed my hand with this smug little smile—
thinking I was about to apologize.
Instead, I pointed at the wedding invitation on the table.
My voice came out flat:
"Congrats, Blake."
Chapter 2
Before the tears could spill,
I pulled free from Blake's grip and headed for the door.
His face went from smug to furious in a second.
He swept the invitation off the table with the back of his hand,
his voice dropping to something sharp and cold:
"Maddie, what the hell is your problem? You wanna throw a fit? Fine. But there's a limit."
"You weren't like this before. When did you get so difficult?"
"And let's be real—being sweet is literally the only thing you have going for you."
I stood there frozen. It felt like someone had just punched a hole through my chest.
People in Blake's world always said I wasn't good enough for him.
I never let it get to me.
Because Blake chased ME. I didn't even know he had money.
The guy everyone called a prince hid his whole life just to date some normal girl from nowhere.
I didn't find out who he really was until we'd been together for two years.
The second I knew, I told him we should break up.
I wasn't naive—we came from completely different worlds. I knew how this story would end.
He didn't say a word. Just left.
Then at midnight,
he showed up outside my place in the pouring rain, yelling my name.
I could hear it in his voice—he was drunk. Completely wasted.
He was drenched, shivering in the cold.
His shirt stuck to his skin, streaked dark with blood.
But he stood there in the storm and shouted:
"Maddie! I got them to back off! So will you do this with me? All of it?"
The puddle around his feet was tinged red.
I didn't know what happened after he walked out,
but I could see what it cost him to come back.
I didn't think. I just ran downstairs and threw myself into his arms.
I really thought we were in love.
Everyone saw the way Blake treated me.
He'd plan our anniversaries weeks ahead of time.
Said love should be big and loud—that he wanted the whole world to know.
When I was down, he'd drag me out on last-minute road trips. We'd chase sunsets together.
He knew every little thing about me. Always found ways to surprise me.
I thought except my grandmother, he loved me more than anyone in the world.
Turns out everything Blake did was fake.
He only asked me out because of some bet. To make his ex jealous.
And it worked. Now they're getting married.
I couldn't hold it together anymore. The tears came fast.
I turned to leave, but Blake caught my wrist.
His eyes dropped to the paper in my hand. His voice turned sharp:
"Why were you at the hospital? Are you sick? Why didn't you tell me?"
My chest tightened.
I gripped the ultrasound printout harder, keeping my voice flat:
"It's nothing. You said last night you wanted a baby. So I went to get checked. To start planning."
Last night when Blake brought up having a kid, I was over the moon.
I'd been feeling off for days—pretty sure I was already pregnant.
I wanted to confirm it first, then surprise him.
Guess he beat me to it.
Chapter 3
Blake let go of my wrist like I'd burned him. He let out a harsh laugh:
"Wow. So you're pulling that move now? Getting knocked up to lock me down? That's really classy, Maddie."
His friends instantly looked at me like I was trash.
These guys spent half their lives sleeping around—
the one thing they couldn't stand was a girl using pregnancy as a weapon.
Blake used to be different from them. Loyal. Never messed around.
But now I'd just made him look like every other guy in that room. No wonder he was furious.
He didn't try to stop me again. Just let me walk.
As I brushed past him,
I thought I saw fear flicker in his eyes, but it vanished before I could be sure.
I looked away and almost laughed.
I was probably imagining things. Too wrecked to see straight.
The second I left, I scheduled an abortion for the next morning.
Then I booked a flight to Ireland leaving in seven days.
I'd gotten so lost in loving Blake that I forgot I used to want things for myself.
When I got home, I made soup like always.
Blake's parents were never around growing up.
Too busy running their business empire.
He'd come home from school starving, and eventually it destroyed his stomach.
After we got together, I started making him soup every night.
My grandmother swore by it—
said it was the only thing that really helped.
She used to make it for me. Then I made it for Blake.
I changed up the ingredients constantly so he wouldn't get sick of it.
Tonight, though, I knew he wasn't coming.
Between the pregnancy and everything that just happened, I had zero appetite.
Barely touched the bowl.
I gave up and crawled into bed.
At some point I must've fallen asleep, because suddenly Blake was there.
He slid under the covers and pulled me close, his hand brushing my forehead:
"You didn't eat anything. Jesus—you're burning up. Are you running a fever?"
He got up, tucked the blanket tight around me, and muttered:
"Can't leave you alone for two seconds without you getting sick."
I felt a cool washcloth press against my forehead.
Then Blake was back with water and two pills, his voice going soft:
"Come on, baby. Take these and you'll feel better. Then when you're okay again, we'll get out of here. Go somewhere. Where do you wanna go?"
Whenever I was upset, Blake used to take me somewhere new.
We'd been planning Ireland next—castles and forests and cliffs.
Guess I'd be seeing them alone now.
Half-conscious, I knocked the pills out of his hand.
The glass hit the floor and shattered.
I jerked awake.
Forcing my eyes open, I pushed myself up slightly.
My voice came out flat and cold:
"You can't take medication when you're trying to conceive. It's not safe."
