Seven Years, One Heartbreak, New Love

Adeline Nixon POV:

Ethan didn' t stop calling for days. When his calls couldn't reach me, he started blowing up Bridgette' s phone, convinced she knew where I was. He was frantic, confused. He didn' t understand why I wasn' t responding, why I hadn' t shown up at our shared apartment.

But I was already gone. I was at the clinic, a private women's health center, the kind he always dismissed as "unnecessary" when my anxiety flared.

He found me there, eventually. I was just leaving Dr. Evans' office, a sense of cautious optimism blooming in my chest. He appeared out of nowhere, blocking my path, his face a mask of desperation.

"Adeline! There you are!" He reached for me, his hand automatically going to my waist, a familiar gesture of possession.

I sidestepped him, my arm coming up between us. "Ethan. What do you want?" My voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

He looked hurt, confused. "What do I want? Adeline, what is this? You disappear, you block me, you don't answer my calls. What are you doing here? Are you… pregnant? Is that it? Are you trying to tell me something?" His eyes scanned my body, searching for an answer.

"No," I said, a wave of disgust washing over me. "I' m not pregnant. And it has nothing to do with you."

"Come on, babe, don't be like this," he tried to charm, his voice dropping to that low, persuasive tone. "You' re upset. I get it. I' m sorry about your birthday. Keira was just… having a moment. You know how she gets. Her career is so important to her, and she was really struggling with the online hate. I was just trying to be a friend." He tried to smooth it over, to minimize his betrayal, just like always. "You know there' s nothing between us. You're being jealous for no reason."

I stared at him, my patience worn thin. "I'm not jealous, Ethan. I' m tired."

"Tired of what?" he scoffed, his charm melting into annoyance. "Tired of being my girlfriend? Tired of this life? What could possibly be more important than that?" He gestured vaguely at the clinic around us, a clear dismissal of whatever "private matter" I might have. "What' s so important that you can't even talk to me?"

Just then, my phone buzzed with an incoming message from the hospital. Reminder: Your lab results are ready. Please discuss with your physician.

I felt a pang of raw vulnerability. This wasn't something to share with him. Not now. Not ever.

"I need to go," I said, pushing past him towards the internal clinic door, where a nurse was already calling my name.

He grabbed my arm again, his eyes wide with a sudden, new fear. "Adeline, wait! What' s going on? Are you sick?" Genuine concern flickered across his face, but it was too late. Years of neglect had built an impenetrable wall between us.

I yanked my arm free. "It' s none of your business, Ethan." I reached the door, my hand on the cold metal handle.

He lunged forward, trying to follow me, desperation etched onto his face. "Adeline, I demand to know! What are you hiding?"

I slammed the door shut, the heavy click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway. He was on the other side, his voice muffled, unheard. I leaned against the door, my chest heaving, a strange mix of fear and triumph washing over me.