He Humiliated Me For My Best Friend

After that day, Leroy probably figured I was just sulking. He shot me a text: "Don't expect me to sweet-talk you this time. If you've got the nerve, don't ever come back."

He moved in with Zelda and started parading her around at every public event. Word on the street was that Leroy had gotten bored of me and tossed me to the curb. Then, right before my final assignment before leaving, we crossed paths again.

Leroy lounged on the couch, his gaze practically dripping with admiration. Beside him, Zelda giggled and flirted, drawing chuckles and playful jabs from the staff around us. Their eyes drifted toward me—some full of pity, others burning with curiosity or outright disdain.

Laney, my colleague, was fuming. She leaned in, her voice a fierce whisper: "Winnie, this is unbelievable. How can he treat you like this?"

I placed a gentle hand on her arm and shook my head. "Let's focus on work. I'm fine."

Predictably, Zelda started picking apart my work. First it was the angle. Then the lighting was apparently all wrong. Next thing I knew, she "accidentally" spilled an entire cup of scalding coffee all over me. I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Zelda, if you're determined to make my life hell, at least pick a better time and place," I snapped.

Leroy cut in instantly, his voice like ice. "Is this really how you behave at work? As a journalist, do you even possess basic patience? Are you even qualified?"

I met his gaze, swallowing the anger clawing up my throat. "And what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Apologize to Zelda. Admit you're in way over your head." The last words dripped with venom.

I knew this was payback for that night. When I hesitated, he leaned back in his chair, his tone cool and detached. "You don't have to apologize, of course. But today's interview ends here—and I'll be reconsidering all future support."

Our eyes locked. His deadpan stare seemed to say: *Winifred, your pride means absolutely nothing to me.*

I took a deep breath and finally muttered, "I'm sorry."

Zelda let out a triumphant laugh, her smile laced with pure malice. "That's it? You've totally ruined my mood, you know~"

Her gaze landed on the bandage around my wrist, and her eyes sparkled with sadistic delight. "How about this? Kneel and hold the microphone for me. And remember—use only that hand~"

I stared at Zelda. She knew exactly how hard I'd fought to become a journalist, yet she was hell-bent on shattering that dream.

Leroy backed her up without missing a beat, his voice flat. "Do as Zelda says."

Behind me, Laney was about to storm the stage, but I held her back. I stood beside Zelda, letting my actions speak for themselves. Finally, she was satisfied.

During the grueling interview, cold sweat trickled down my forehead. I could feel the skin on my wrist tearing. Warm blood slid down my arm, mixing with the now-cold coffee sticking to my back.

The moment the interview wrapped, exhaustion swallowed me whole and I collapsed. Leroy immediately shielded Zelda, throwing me a condescending look. "Winifred, drop the act. No one's buying it."

He turned back to Zelda, his voice suddenly soft. "Zelda, I booked a table at your favorite restaurant to celebrate your first interview."

As they walked away, my phone buzzed with a message from Zelda: *"Winifred, blocking me won't work. You can't beat me."*

Dizziness from blood loss clouded my vision, and everything went black.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. Laney sat beside me, her face a tangle of worry and pity. "Winnie... you were pregnant. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"The doctor said you lost too much blood, so the baby... the baby is gone."

I froze, my hand instinctively flying to my abdomen. A crushing wave of guilt and remorse washed over me. The child I had dreamed of, night after night, had slipped away without me even knowing.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the tears fell faster than any words could form.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. The screen lit up with a name I had grown to both dread and crave: Leroy Howell.