After His Lingerie Betrayal I Aborted Our Child

After mustering the strength to hold myself together and make my way back home, I splashed some cold water on my face in the bathroom. Only then did the fog in my mind begin to clear, though slowly.

Gazing at my reflection—my pale skin and the silent tears revealing my sorrow—I couldn't help but find the sight utterly pitiful.

The sharp pain in my stomach was unrelenting. I thought of making myself a cup of coffee with some sugar before heading to bed, but as I passed the dining room, I noticed the spiced honey cake I had left on the table.

With a bitter smile, I looked at the forgotten cake. Karson had only remembered today as the birthday of his beloved, Lia Kennedy, while he forgot it was mine as well.

Years ago, after Lia decided to move abroad, a drunken Karson showed up at my door. He knelt on one knee with nothing more than a soda can tab and said, "Audrey, marry me."

Looking at the face I had adored for so long, I knew deep down he didn’t love me, but I was swept away by the illusion of lasting happiness. Against my better judgment, I accepted his proposal.

Eventually, we got married and built a life together. The soda can tab he used to propose was swapped for a big diamond ring.

From being an unknown, underrated designer, he climbed the ladder to become a sought-after designer for an international luxury lingerie brand.

Everything seemed perfect, yet happiness proved as fragile as a bubble, ready to pop at the slightest disturbance.

If Lia hadn’t returned from abroad, if I hadn’t stumbled upon Karson’s design drafts and Lia’s social media post on Thanksgiving, maybe I would’ve kept lying to myself. I wouldn’t have ended the pregnancy, nor would I have turned down the promotion abroad.

But reality doesn’t entertain "what ifs." I swept the cake off the table and into the trash, feeling nothing but icy indifference and seething resentment.