THE TRUTH BEHIND HIS PROPOSAL
Chapter 4
POV: Ava
The cheap hotel on the outskirts of the city smelled of stale cigarettes and cleaning chemicals. I checked in just before sunrise, paying in cash so Adrian couldn’t trace me through credit cards. The receptionist barely glanced at my tear-streaked face. I took the key with trembling fingers and walked to the tiny room on the second floor.
Compared to the luxurious penthouse I had shared with Adrian, this place was depressing.
The room carried the scent of old paint and cheap disinfectant. Somewhere down the hallway, a television played loudly while a couple argued behind a closed door. Water dripped steadily from a leaking pipe outside the bathroom window, each drop echoing through the silence.
I stood in the middle of the room, unable to move.
Just yesterday, I had slept beneath silk sheets in the apartment Adrian insisted would become our forever home. Every corner of that place had been filled with plans for our future. Now, I was standing in a room so small that I could touch both walls by stretching out my arms.
For the first time since leaving, the reality of what I had done settled over me.
There was no going back.
Not because I couldn't.
Because if I did, I wasn't sure I would ever have the strength to leave again.
A narrow bed with a thin mattress, faded curtains that barely blocked the light, a small bathroom with peeling tiles, and one cracked mirror above the sink. I locked the door behind me, dropped my suitcase, and sank onto the cold bathroom floor.
I pulled the two pregnancy tests from my bag. The two pink lines stared back at me, undeniable. Everything became painfully real in that moment.
I picked up one of the tests again, hoping the result had somehow changed.
It hadn't.
Two unmistakable pink lines.
I remembered standing in the pharmacy only days ago, convincing myself I was only buying it to ease my worries. I had laughed nervously when the cashier wished me good luck.
Now that memory felt cruel.
A single test could have been wrong.
But two...
There was no denying it anymore.
A tiny heartbeat was already growing inside me, completely unaware that its parents' world had just fallen apart.
---
The tears came uncontrollably. I cried until my throat burned and my chest ached. Memories flooded me like knives.
Adrian teaching me to ride a bicycle years ago, laughing when I fell and then kissing my scraped knee.
Our first tiny apartment where we ate instant noodles on the floor because we couldn’t afford furniture.
The way he had promised we would have children after marriage, telling me with shining eyes that I would be the mother of his children one day.
Those beautiful memories now felt poisoned.
I placed a trembling hand on my still-flat stomach.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the tiny life inside me. “I’m sorry this is how you’re coming into the world. But I promise you—I will keep you. I will never make you feel unwanted. And I will never use you to force your father to stay.”
My fingers brushed over my stomach again.
"I don't know how we're going to survive," I admitted through trembling breaths. "I don't know where we'll live after this... or how I'll pay for doctor's appointments... or whether I'll be enough."
Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks.
"But I promise you one thing."
"I'll never let you wonder if you're loved."
"I'll work until my hands bleed if I have to."
"I'll become stronger than I ever imagined."
"You didn't ask to be born into this mess."
"So I'll spend every day making sure you never pay for our mistakes."
The room remained silent, but somehow, speaking those words aloud made me feel just a little less alone.
This was the first time I truly accepted that I was going to become a mother. Alone.
---
My phone finally had enough charge to turn on. It exploded with notifications—dozens of missed calls, countless text messages, voicemail alerts. I didn’t open any of them. I only saw the previews:
Adrian:Please answer.
Adrian:Let me explain.
Adrian:Where are you?
I knew if I read them, I would lose my resolve. With steady but tearful hands, I removed the SIM card and snapped it in half. I would buy a new number later. For now, I needed to disappear completely.
---
Meanwhile, Adrian finally entered our penthouse. The apartment was unnaturally quiet. He began searching frantically.
Ava’s favorite shoes were gone.
Her navy jacket no longer hung by the door.
Half the wardrobe was empty.
Her makeup table had been cleared.
Her toothbrush was missing from the bathroom holder.
Every missing item made his panic worse. He called my number again.
“Number unavailable.”
His expression changed from worry to raw fear.
---
As he walked through the silent apartment, memories assaulted him.
The night he had proposed to me privately with a cheap silver ring, promising that one day he would give me the wedding I deserved.
My excitement while planning our future together.
The way I always waited up for him, no matter how late he worked.
Every beautiful memory now felt poisoned by what he had done.
---
A knock sounded at the door. The building manager stood outside, looking uncomfortable. He handed Adrian the apartment keys and a plain white envelope.
“Miss Carter asked me to give you this,” he said quietly.
Adrian tore it open immediately. Inside was only one sentence, written in my handwriting:
**Don’t look for me.**
He read it again. And again. His hands began to shake.
For the first time in years, Adrian Hayes completely broke.
He punched the wall hard enough to leave a dent and blood on his knuckles. He slid down onto the floor, burying his face in his hands.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered into the empty apartment.
But I was already gone.
---
At the hospital across town, Claire slowly woke up. A doctor informed Adrian’s family that her condition had stabilized. The moment her eyes opened, she asked one question:
“Where’s Adrian?”
Her mother smiled knowingly. “He hasn’t left your side.”
Claire’s expression subtly changed. She didn’t look relieved.
She looked calculating.
---
Back in the penthouse, Adrian stared at my note while his phone began ringing. The caller ID read:
Claire Calling.
He let it ring.
******
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