100 Pranks from My Boyfriend, All for His First Love

The rain had been relentless all week.

When Sarah reached the old part of the town, her shoes were soaked and her clothes clung to her from the drizzle. The roads here were rough and uneven, winding through crumbling alleyways and forgotten lots.

Her grandmother’s grave was supposed to be nestled peacefully in a cemetery. Instead, she found the tombstone discarded in a patch of weeds, mud-stained, cracked, and tossed aside like trash.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat.

She stood frozen for a moment, then dropped to her knees and gently wiped the dirt from the stone, her hands trembling.

“Grandma…” Her voice cracked. “It was my fault. I misjudged him.”

Her chest tightened as the memories came rushing back. The first time she brought Harvey here, she’d been so nervous, so proud. She wanted him to understand how much her grandmother meant to her.

Back then, had he already been laughing at her behind her back? Mocking her for being naïve?

Maybe the devil does appear when spoken of.

A strong hand suddenly yanked her by the wrist.

Sarah gasped, jerking her head up, and there he was.

Harvey.

He looked like he’d rushed over, breath heavy, hair slightly disheveled.

For a moment, she foolishly thought he was worried about her.

But then, a voice crackled from his phone, still on speaker. "Sir Harvey, Miss Zoey isn’t doing well. She said Sarah pushed her. Have you found Sarah yet? Miss Zoey has been crying nonstop."

Joseph’s voice.

And just like that, the illusion shattered.

Harvey’s grip on her wrist tightened, and she felt like her bones might snap.

He muttered a few clipped responses, then hung up.

When he turned back to Sarah, his eyes were hard as stone.

"Zoey said you pushed her. The baby’s position is unstable now. Sarah, have you been getting too comfortable lately? If you’re looking to die, then go do it somewhere far from me."

His venomous words hit her like a slap.

There had been a time when Harvey was worried if she’d eaten, if she remembered to wear a coat, or if she was lonely or cold. Now, he didn’t even ask if she was okay. He just took someone else’s word and threw it at her like a weapon.

Sarah let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and broken. "Fine. As long as you're willing to show some mercy and return my grandmother’s ashes, I’ll disappear. I’ll stay far, far away from you."

She meant it.

She didn’t know what kind of madness he was caught up in, but she was done.

Instead of letting go, Harvey gripped her tightly. His fingers dug into her skin.

"If anything happens to Zoey," he said, voice low and dangerous, "I’ll send you straight to the afterlife to join your grandmother."

Before Sarah could react, he dragged her roughly down the hill and shoved her into a car waiting by the curb.

The pain came almost immediately. Her stomach clenched, waves of nausea crashing over her.

Sarah curled up in the corner of the backseat, clutching her abdomen, trying to breathe through the sharp, twisting cramps.

Harvey sat beside her, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

Eventually, out of his eye, he noticed her trembling.

He scoffed, "Scared now? Trying to fake being sick so I’ll feel sorry for you? Zoey told me you’ve always been jealous of her. Adopted daughter playing victim. How many tricks do you have?"

Sarah opened her mouth, wanting to speak, wanting to defend herself.

But the look in his eyes stopped her cold.

All warmth was gone. There was nothing left of the man she had once loved.

The Harvey who used to hold her, support her, and make her feel safe had disappeared.

In his place was someone cold, someone who had spent years leading her into a cruel trap to help Zoey break her down piece by piece.

Sarah turned her face toward the window, the city lights blurring behind the rain-streaked glass.

Exhausted, Sarah thought, 'I just need to find a way out.'

She didn’t know where she’d go or how she’d survive, but when this was over, she never wanted anything to do with Harvey.

She vowed never to come back.

Just then, the car rolled to a stop in front of the hospital, and the driver called out that they had arrived.

Only then did Harvey look up from his phone.

Sarah hadn’t moved. She was still curled up in the corner of the backseat, her body rigid, drenched in sweat. Her shirt clung to her, and her lips had turned pale.

Something about her stillness made Harvey hesitate.

He turned to look at her more closely.

Slowly, almost uncertainly, he brushed her hair away from her face.

She didn’t flinch.

There was no color left in her cheeks. Her breathing was shallow. Her skin felt like ice.

Harvey’s stomach dropped.

"Sarah," he said, shaking her shoulder. "Sarah, wake up."

No response.

"Sarah—"

The driver turned, eyes wide. "Mr. Jameson, she’s bleeding a lot!"

Harvey froze.

His gaze dropped to her lap. His heart slammed against his ribs.

A dark red stain was spreading fast.