I Carried His Child While He Planned Their Wedding

I don't quite remember how I left the inn. The cool evening breeze slipping down my collar brought me back to reality.

Megan stood beside me, her expression uncertain, as if she was on the brink of confessing something. After a long pause, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

I forced a smile. "You all knew, didn’t you? Was it fun playing me for a fool?"

Most of the people in that room were familiar to me. Whenever we met, they'd greet me with a friendly "sister-in-law," their words and actions full of respect and approval. But behind closed doors, they revealed another side.

They say if you want to know if someone truly cares about you, observe how their friends treat you. I never imagined they’d be so unified, unified enough to stage a charade right in front of me.

My heart felt leaden, as if every ounce of energy and spirit had been drained, leaving everything else feeling empty and unnecessary.

"...Don't let them know I was here."

I signaled for a taxi without giving Megan another look. As I struggled to piece together my next steps, unbidden memories of Zavier surfaced in my mind.

When we first met, I had just arrived in Chicago and was unfamiliar with the city. My car got rear-ended, and the other driver and his family, seeing I was alone, acted arrogantly, threatening me against calling the police and offering me a hundred bucks to settle.

I was completely stunned.

Zavier happened to pass by at that moment. He was the only one who came forward to help me.

Before I could thank him, he had disappeared, leaving me with a lingering sense of regret.

A month later, during a company meeting on a bid, I saw him again. His startup, founded with some friends, was one of the bidders.

After the meeting, he managed to secure a partnership, and I ended up being one of the coordinators, which led to more frequent interactions.

Perhaps it was the confidence in his voice when he spoke, or maybe the casual "Good morning" he would toss my way, or even the faint, indescribable scent he carried... At some point, I found myself drawn to him, inexplicably.

Then I asked, "Are you single?"

He paused, then smiled and nodded, "Why? Are you planning to chase me?"

I said yes.

He laughed again, "I'm not easy to catch. If you fail, no crying, okay?"

I assured him I wasn't that fragile.

Little did I know, two years later, I would look back on these moments and find myself crying, unable to see the road ahead or the way back.

As I stepped out of the cab, Robin, the driver, offered me some advice, "Miss, no matter how rough things get, it’ll pass. You're still young. Even if you hit a dead end, you can always turn around."

Yes, it's time to turn around. I'm not a sore loser. I just need a bit of time.