
The Father of my Child is Getting Married
The Father of my Child is Getting Married Chapter 1
My parents died in a car accident, leaving me orphaned at a young age. It was my neighbor, Asher Reed, who took me in, adopting me from the orphanage and caring for me for seven long years. I thought of him as family—until the night of my birthday party, when he got drunk, stumbled into my room, and left me with more than just memories. He made me pregnant with his child.
With the positive pregnancy test tucked in my pocket, I went to his company, hoping to confront him. But I wasn’t prepared for what I saw: Asher and his first love, Dorothy Morgan, locked in a passionate kiss in his office. My heart sank, my fingertips turning icy, as a whirlwind of emotions crashed over me—betrayal, anger, disbelief.
When he finally noticed me standing there, his face darkened, not with guilt but irritation. “Didn’t I tell you not to come here unless you had a reason?” he snapped, annoyed at being interrupted.
Dorothy, her face flushed, quickly adjusted her collar and whimpered in her usual delicate voice, “Asher, my water pipes broke at home... can I stay at your place for a few days?”
Asher barely spared me a glance before shoving a bank card into my hand. “Didn’t you always say you wanted to travel? Here, take this. Go enjoy yourself for a while.”
He pushed me out the door without a second thought. As I stood outside, the sounds of laughter and celebration echoed from within, each cheer like a knife twisting in my heart.
Later, I did as he asked. I aborted the child and left his life for good. Lying on the cold, sterile operating table, staring at the harsh, blinding lights above me, life felt unbearably cruel. I remembered the excitement I had felt when I first found out I was pregnant. Now, that same hope felt like a distant, mocking memory.
——
The nurse's eyes, full of pity and sympathy, had burned through me just moments before. I still felt the sting of shame on my face. The procedure required a family member's signature, and, for a fleeting moment, I thought of Asher. I called him several times, but he rejected every call without hesitation.
I let out a bitter laugh. At least this way, I don't have to worry about him finding out.
The operation itself was quick, but it felt like an eternity.
As the anesthetic wore off and the numbness in my body faded, my phone rang. It was Asher.
“Ingrid, I won’t be in touch for a while. Don’t contact me either. I don’t want Dorothy getting the wrong idea.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but all I heard was the sharp click of the call ending. He hung up without waiting for a word. He often calls me Gigi, my childhood nickname. I knew he was pissed off.
Images of Dorothy flooded my mind—her flushed face as she clung to him, beaming at the new necklace he'd gifted her. Once, I believed that necklace might’ve been meant for me, a surprise waiting to be revealed. But it was all just my delusion, wasn’t it? How foolish I’d been, thinking he would remember the warmth of that night, that it meant anything to him.
I left the hospital, stepping into the harsh bite of the cold wind. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, I shivered, my body weak and my steps uncertain. With trembling fingers, I dialed a number I’d been holding onto for too long.
“Boss,” I said, my voice steady despite the whirlwind inside me, “I’ve decided. I'll take up your offer to establish the overseas branch.”
An old, familiar voice crackled on the other end of the line, filled with excitement.
“Ah, Ingrid! I’ve been waiting for this call for a long time,” the boss said, his tone warm and enthusiastic. “You’re young, talented, and have such a sharp business mind. I’ve always admired your potential.”
He paused for a moment, then continued, “When you resigned so suddenly, it really caught me off guard. We had to put the overseas expansion plans on hold. But now that you're ready, we can move forward.”
“You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll handle your flights and accommodations. Just focus on getting there.”
Within minutes, a text message arrived with the details—my flight was booked, scheduled to leave in a week.
When I told my best friend I was leaving, her face tightened with worry. “Does Asher know about this? Don’t forget, just last month when he couldn’t find you, he nearly tore my door down.”
A shiver ran through me at the memory. I had stayed at her place for a few days without telling him, and my phone had broken, cutting off all communication. Asher went into a frenzy, mobilizing his entire group to search for me as if I had vanished from the face of the earth. He even offered a massive reward, millions, just to find my whereabouts. When he finally showed up at my best friend’s house, he was furious, threatening to have the place torn apart.
At the time, I thought his extreme reaction was because he cared deeply for me. I even felt a secret thrill, convinced it was because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing me. But now, in hindsight, I see how naïve I was.
He had said it himself—he only ever saw me as a sister, nothing more. His actions, which I mistook for affection, were just the concern of a brother for a sibling. To the world, he played the part of the caring, protective brother to someone unrelated by blood. But I knew the truth. His heart had always tilted toward Dorothy.
And when the day of their wedding arrives, I will likely be forgotten, left wandering like a stray dog with no place to call home.
Not wanting to cause any trouble for my best friend, I checked into a random hotel, hoping to disappear for a while. After tossing my things aside, I took a quick photo of the room and sent it to her, just to let her know I was safe. Then, I collapsed onto the bed, my body heavy with exhaustion from everything I had been through.
The weariness hit me like a wave. With my strength already drained, sleep came quickly and without effort, pulling me under.
At some point, my phone began to vibrate—over and over—but I was too deep in sleep to notice. It wasn’t until a loud crash echoed through the room, the sound of the door being forced open, that I jolted awake.