Pregnancy Singleton Causes Misunderstanding

Once we were in the car, my mom finally lost her composure. "Aria, I feel so bad for you! I can't believe you're pregnant with a child from someone like that!"

I laughed and said, "Mom, I'm not pregnant."

Thinking I was just being stubborn, my mom said, "Aria, if you're feeling down, just let it out. Whatever you want to do with the baby, your dad and I will support you. Isn't that right?"

My dad agreed, "Yes, of course."

I sighed and said, "Mom, I'm telling the truth. That was just a prop for a shoot, and the stagehand messed up the name."

I showed her the chat logs with the stagehand to prove it. My mom finally believed me, and her worried expression cleared instantly. She huffed, "It's a good thing you're not pregnant. Otherwise, I'd have broken your legs."

Hearing our conversation, my dad chuckled, "Aria, that stagehand really is your lucky star. If it weren't for this mix-up, we might have fallen into their trap and ended up with a real mess."

My mom added, "Exactly. Especially with a child from someone like that. If you keep it, it could really take a toll on your health, and if you don't, we'd be taking a life. It's better to avoid the whole situation if possible."

I had to admit, my parents had a point. If Ryan's true colors hadn't shown, I might have been seriously taken advantage of.

My dad was right about one thing: Ryan had been good to me these past couple of years, at least in terms of emotional support.

Ryan and I were college classmates. We met during our senior year, and he began pursuing me aggressively.

At first, I didn't think much of him because he seemed quite ordinary. But everyone had their down moments. When I had an emergency appendectomy and my parents weren't around, Ryan took care of me during my recovery. In my vulnerable state, I saw him in a new light.

Over time, Ryan did show me he cared, doing things like braving the cold to get me barbecue late at night or waiting in line for half an hour just to get me a specific coffee. At the time, I mistook these gestures for love.

Little did I know, I had become someone's prey. I was still lost in thoughts when we arrived at my place.

My parents bought it for me—a three-bedroom, two-living-room home—which was originally intended as part of my marriage arrangement. If Ryan's family hadn't shown their true colors so early, he might have ended up with half of it.

I looked at the two large boxes of Ryan's things and felt increasingly frustrated. I paid for a significant portion of these items.

Ryan always claimed his family was struggling, so I had been covering his living expenses for the past two years. The more I thought about it, the more I felt cheated. I decided to take out everything I had purchased and leave it all behind. Even if I couldn't use it, I wasn't about to let Ryan benefit from it.

I took photos of the packed items and left them with the doorman before heading back to my parent's place.

That night, Ryan called. "Aria, not only did you take my things, but you also changed the passcode. Give it to me now, or where will my family sleep tonight?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Ryan, calling you and your family 'dim-witted' is an understatement. You clearly don't understand what a breakup means. I changed the passcode to keep you out. How dare you ask for it back? You're both greedy and clueless."

Ryan said furiously, "Aria, just wait…"

I hung up and blocked him before he could finish. I thought Ryan wouldn't make much of a fuss, but I underestimated his audacity. He even called the police.

When the police arrived and said someone reported me for taking his belongings, I was stunned. My parents wanted to accompany me to the station, but I declined. They had already been through so much that day, and I didn't want them to worry more.

I told my parents, "Don't worry. They won't do anything at the station."

But it turned out, even at the police station, they were still acting out of line.