Honey, I Don't Love You Anymore！

After Caden slapped me, I vanished from his life.

I spent one night at a hotel on credit, and the next day, Echo returned and picked me up.

During the day, I sat on the balcony, soaking up the sun and gently touching my lower abdomen, which occasionally fluttered. I often drifted in and out of sleep, only waking when Echo returned from work in the evening.

I didn't want to worry my best friend, so I lied, assuring her that I was eating and sleeping well, pretending to be full of life.

“I’ll definitely live to be a hundred years old,” I’d say, trying to sound convincing.

But at night, the pain was unbearable, like tiny venomous ants gnawing at my skin.

I lay curled up on the bed, drenched in cold sweat for hours.

The agony persisted until the early morning when I finally passed out from exhaustion.

In my dreams, Caden’s image haunted me.

I remembered how devastated he was when Kaila left, how he self-harmed and bore scars all over his body.

I didn’t want him to lose hope, so I mimicked Kaila’s look, wearing a teardrop mole and gauzy dresses.

I kissed his wounds and whispered how much I loved him.

After we started dating, he proudly took me everywhere.

I liked it when he introduced me as, “This is my girlfriend, Samantha.”

He rarely mixed up our names in public.

Once, while playing ice hockey, I cut my calf deeply. And it bled a lot.

Knowing my fear of pain, he whispered comforting words as we rushed to the hospital.

“Samantha, don’t cry. I’m here.”

Even though I couldn’t stop crying, I felt an inexplicable sweetness inside.

I was relieved that my face wasn’t disfigured, fearing that if it were, Caden wouldn’t love me anymore.

It took six stitches.

And he said each one hurt his heart.

I was in a haze when Echo woke me.

My pillow was soaked with tears, and I clutched my quilt tightly, vision blurred.

“Samantha! You’re bleeding a lot! We need to get you to the hospital!” she exclaimed.

When I looked down, I saw blood mixed with another fluid, staining my pajamas and sheets.

I woke up to the sound of a heated argument between Caden and Echo.

“Come on, Caden! Why are you pretending to care now?” Echo yelled.

“Move, I need to see Samantha,” Caden insisted.

“Are you concerned about her or the baby?” Echo retorted.

I stared at the ceiling, not expecting an answer from Caden.

“Can’t you answer that? Do you even know that Samantha...”

Echo began, but I called her name, stopping her.

She had promised not to tell Caden the truth.

A few months ago, I had received both a pregnancy ultrasound and a late-stage cancer diagnosis.

The embryo was much smaller than the area covered by cancer cells.

Echo had been furious with me for not telling Caden. “Your habit of only sharing good news drives me crazy!”

But how could I tell him?

He proposed the day after he learned I was pregnant.

I feared he’d cancel the wedding or pretend to love me because of my illness.

Echo came to my bedside, gently holding my hand and softly scolding me, “It’s too late to keep hiding this from him...”

Caden, catching only part of the conversation, asked, “What are you hiding?”

I ignored him and turned to Echo, pleading, “Is the baby okay?”

Echo hesitated, remaining silent. I felt a wave of fear and touched my belly, my nose tingling with emotion.

“Don’t worry, the baby is fine,” Echo reassured me, wiping my tears. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

Caden reached out and touched my belly, his gaze so tender it seemed almost tangible.

"Samantha, are you trying to use the baby to manipulate me?"

He asked softly, but when I closed my eyes, he roughly grabbed my jaw.