Love's Bitter Price

After I finished speaking, I grabbed a bottle of alcohol to prove my sincerity and drained it in one gulp.

Alan was a playboy with countless women around him. He had once declared he would never settle down with any woman. I refused to believe it and fought my way to his side with bloodied determination, thinking I could move him with my love.

I was indeed the woman who had stayed by his side the longest. However, Leilani's arrival shattered everything.

It turned out that Alan would settle down for someone—that person just was never going to be me.

Amid the lively commotion and laughter, I walked out with a smile while clutching the pregnancy test report and the check. I should not disturb their wonderful time.

The first heavy snow of winter fell quietly. This was my seventh year with Alan. He remained young, reckless, flirtatious, and thrill-seeking, but I was no longer young.

I pulled out my phone. Alan had sent me a message: [Send me proof of the abortion when it's done.]

I knew he was worried I would go back on my word, but seeing those words still made my heart ache. Before coming here, I had already mentally prepared myself for two outcomes.

It was either going to be marriage or a breakup. However, before I could even speak, Alan had already made his choice.

My phone showed a new post from Leilani on social media. [From love at first sight to a lifetime together. Alan, please take care of me from now on.]

The attached photo showed their hands intertwined, both wearing rings. Many people had already liked and commented with words of congratulations. I liked it too, then pulled out the diamond ring from my pocket that I had bought seven years ago.

When I first purchased it, I never imagined I would be entangled with Alan for seven years. In the end, I never gave it to him.

I laughed bitterly and tossed both the test report and the ring into the trash.

Opening my phone, I dialed a number. "Yeah, I've made up my mind. This time, I'm the one leaving him."

After hanging up, I went home. Perhaps the baby in my belly was unwilling to leave just like that, or maybe it was the alcohol. Sharp, icy pain shot through my abdomen.

I curled up on the bed, drenched in a cold sweat. My consciousness drifted hazily back to the past.

I first met Alan when I was 18, and it felt like a small miracle. I had just gotten into college, finally escaping my father and his endless cycle of drinking, gambling, and violence. I thought I could leave behind all that sadness and pain.

Yet, within three months, my father tracked me down. He said he had raised me for 18 years, and it was time for me to repay him. Naturally, I refused, but I was just a frail woman who had never eaten her fill growing up. How could I fight off a tall, brutish thug?

He beat me until my face was bruised and swollen, breaking both my hands and legs. He took the living expenses I had earned from working day and night, even the money from my student loans.

I lay in that alley in despair. At that moment, I truly felt that dying would not be so bad.

Alan happened to pass by and found me. He took me to the hospital. I was not grateful to him, at least not then. I was full of resentment.

Why did I have to suffer all this? I hated everything, and I hated him for saving me. What was the point of living such a desperate life?

However, Alan seemed to see right through me. After I went on another hunger strike, he grabbed me by the collar and dragged me to the hospital rooftop.

The howling wind swirled endlessly around me, and I shivered from the cold. He looked at me expressionlessly.

"You want to die? I'll help you! You think your gambling addict of a father will get what he deserves if you die?"

Death was just one step away, and suddenly, I felt the injustice of it all. Alan was right. I had done nothing wrong. Why should I be the one to die?

Trembling, I grabbed his hand and said word by word, "I don't want to die. I want to live!"

A brilliant smile bloomed on his face as he pulled me into his arms. "Then live well!"

After that, the Rivers family supported me financially under the guise of aid for impoverished students. My father later died in a car accident.