Grace had always believed her life would follow one of those gentle, predictable storylines, the kind she used to read in small-town romance paperbacks with pastel covers and flowery fonts. She met Oliver in her first year of high school, fell in love with him by their junior year, and by graduation, they were inseparable. Their families already treated them like a married couple, and people often said, “Those two will be together forever.”
Grace let herself believe it.
After all, Oliver had a way of looking at her as though she was the only person in any room, and whenever he talked about the future, she was always there, sitting beside him on the porch of their imaginary house, laughing with their imaginary children, living a simple life filled with real happiness. When they married at twenty-one, she felt certain the world had delivered her exactly where she was meant to be. She never imagined that two years later, she would find herself standing alone on a quiet street with a suitcase, a broken heart, and a child growing inside her.
The first sign that something was wrong appeared on a chilly afternoon in late autumn. Grace stood in the bathroom of their small home, holding a pregnancy test in trembling fingers. The two lines were unmistakable.
Her heart raced not with fear, but with joy. She imagined Oliver lifting her into his arms, spinning her around, laughing like he did when life surprised him in good ways. She rushed out to the living room where he was half-watching a football game, his feet on the coffee table.
“Ollie,” she said, breathless. “I need to show you something.”
He turned lazily, raised a brow. “What’s up?”
She handed him the test.
For a moment, he stared at it, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed sharply, bitterly, so unlike the warm sound she adored. “No.
No, absolutely not. You’ve got to be kidding.”
Her smile faded. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not ready for this,” he said, tossing the test onto the couch as though it were an inconvenience.
“We talked about waiting, remember?”
Grace fumbled for words. “I know, but… things happen. And I’m happy.
Aren’t you even a little—”
“Happy?” He sprang to his feet. “Grace, there’s no way we’re doing this. I’m working two jobs, we’re barely getting ahead, and you want to add a baby?
Are you out of your mind?”
She stepped back as if he’d struck her. “It’s not about wanting or not wanting. It’s here.
It’s real.”
He paced, running his hands through his hair. “We need to fix it.”
Grace froze. “Fix… what?”
“The pregnancy,” he said, voice steely.
“It’s simple. You take care of it, and we pretend none of this ever happened.”
Her heart stalled. “No,” she whispered.
“I can’t. I won’t.”
He stopped pacing, looked at her with a coldness she had never seen in his eyes, not once in all their years together. “Then you can’t stay here.”
Grace barely understood his words.
“What… what do you mean?”
“I mean, you have to go,” he said. “If you’re choosing this baby over us, then we’re done.”
The blow hit her like a physical impact. She felt all the air leave her chest.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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