Goodbye, CEO Trashbag

As the girl walked away, she kept glancing back at Alfred, reluctant to leave. "I'll always support you and Vivian! You have to get married!"

Alfred watched them go, then casually dropped a scoop of ice cream onto my plate. "Babe, don't take it to heart. The CEO Falls in Love series on Vivian's socials is blowing up—it's great for the company. You have no idea how happy it makes her. If I shut it down, she'll be upset."

I barely looked at him. "I don't care. You don't need to explain."

Another sharp pain ripped through my stomach. I clutched my abdomen, my face paling.

On the drive home, his phone rang again.

"Mr. Johnston, can you pick me up from the pool? I'm wearing something way too revealing—it's impossible to get a cab. Please, please?"

Vivian's voice was sickly sweet, practically dripping through the speaker.

Alfred chuckled. "Alright, alright, I'm on my way."

After hanging up, he grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Babe, let's go pick up Vivian together. That way, you won't overthink things."

"Alfred, you can't go. My stomach hurts—I need a hospital. Now."

His expression darkened instantly.

"Hannah, can you stop being so dramatic? I wanted to take you with me so you wouldn't make a fuss, and now you're pulling this act?"

"I'm not acting! I need to go to the hospital—I'm serious, it hurts!"

"Oh, come on. At least make it convincing."

Suddenly, I felt a rush of warmth between my legs.

"I'm pregnant," I forced out, my voice shaking. "And I'm in pain. This could be a threatened miscarriage—we have to go to the hospital now."

Alfred didn't believe me. His face twisted in fury.

"Oh, so now you're pregnant? You lie to me about everything—and now you're using this? We've been married for four years. Have we ever used protection? And yet, you never got pregnant—not once! But the moment I go to pick up Vivian, suddenly you're carrying my child?"

His anger boiled over, and he slammed the brakes.

"Get out! Didn't you say you're bleeding? That your stomach hurts? Then go! Stop wasting my time—I need to pick up Vivian."

"Fine. I'll go."

I reached for the door handle, but he yanked me back.

"I've spoiled you too much. You're getting real bold, huh?"

"Let's get a divorce, Alfred."

He froze. "Divorce?"

I nodded. "Phoebe already drafted the papers."

His grip slackened. He just stared.

"Hannah Hill, are you serious? No one's gonna want a pretentious woman like you."

"I've thought it through. Goodbye."

I pulled the door open.

The second he realized I was actually leaving, he floored it.

The world blurred. Then pain—sharp, searing.

Bystanders screamed. Blood pooled beneath me, warm and endless.

Alfred didn't even look back.

The crimson spread, blooming like silent, twisted flowers.