The Heart He Stole

I had been so eager to surprise him.

Chase had smiled that day, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. Pressing his forehead against mine, he whispered with all the tenderness in the world. “Helen, from now on, all you have to do in this house is lean on me and take care of our child.”

His eyes had been so sincere, filled with love—or so I thought. Tears welled up in my eyes as I recalled how he had proposed just the day before, sliding a wedding ring onto my finger. But now, those memories were tainted. The only image burned into my mind was that of his cold scalpel, piercing my chest.

The wound throbbed with phantom pain, raw and unrelenting. Trembling, I grabbed the pregnancy test report, tearing it into shreds. The pieces fluttered to the floor like fallen leaves. A murderer had no right to be a father. Chase didn’t deserve to know he had a child on the way.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen, burning like a thousand needles. When I looked down, I saw a saffron-colored stain spreading on my dress. My hands trembled as panic gripped me. I had been pushing myself too hard. My overthinking had taken its toll—not just on me, but on the life growing inside me. Without hesitation, I dialed for an ambulance. But the moment the paramedics arrived, I regretted my decision.

Standing at the doorway was none other than Chase’s best friend, Adam Reid.

When Chase and I bought our apartment, we had chosen a place near the hospital where he worked. It hadn’t crossed my mind until now how that decision might backfire.

Adam was hard to miss, even in a crowd. Dressed in a pristine white coat and wearing his signature gold-rimmed glasses, his tall, commanding figure stood out effortlessly.

For a moment, he froze, his gaze locking onto mine. Then, like flipping a switch, his expression turned cold.

“She’s pregnant. Get her to the hospital immediately,” he barked at the other paramedics.

***

I lay on the hospital bed as Adam methodically prepared the ultrasound equipment. He moved the detector over my stomach, his voice calm but distant.

“Breathe in.”

“Hold it.”

“Breathe out.”

His tone was clinical, yet his fingertips were unexpectedly warm, brushing against my skin just enough to send shivers down my spine. The air between us felt strangely charged, though neither of us acknowledged it.

When he finished, Adam straightened and walked out of the room without a word.

Adam and Chase had been college roommates and while I knew they were close, Adam and I had rarely interacted. Chase had always described him as solitary and aloof, someone who preferred keeping others at arm’s length.

Whenever we crossed paths, I was usually the one offering polite greetings while Adam responded with a curt nod, if anything at all.

When Adam returned, his forehead was damp, a stray lock of hair clinging to his skin.

“There’s nothing wrong with the baby,” he said, his voice steady. “This is your first pregnancy, so you need to take extra care during the first four months. Don’t stress yourself out.”

I nodded, my lips barely moving. But before he could leave, I grabbed his wrist.

“Adam, please... don’t tell Chase about the baby.”

His brows furrowed slightly, and for a moment, he seemed caught off guard. Then he nodded, his expression softening just enough to hint at understanding. “You should stay overnight for observation. You can leave tomorrow morning,” he said simply before walking away.

***

The next morning, Adam accompanied me out of the hospital. Just as I was about to thank him, I froze.

At the hospital entrance, standing beside a sleek black Mercedes, were two familiar figures.

Chase was guiding Grace, his hand on her lower back, his body angled protectively toward hers. The way they walked together was intimate, far too close for mere friends. Before I could fully process what I was seeing, a pair of hands covered my eyes, and I was pulled aside.

Adam’s voice was low and firm. “Don’t look.”

I stayed frozen in place, listening as Chase and Grace’s laughter drifted through the air, growing softer until it disappeared entirely.

“Grace, soon you’ll be fully recovered,” I heard Chase say before they moved out of earshot.

My phone buzzed, pulling me back to the present. It was a message from Chase.

The text was accompanied by a selfie of him in his hospital office, smiling like nothing had happened.

[I’m at the hospital. Make something nice for lunch and wait for me, okay?]

I stared at the screen, bile rising in my throat. Grace’s figure had been completely absent from the photo, but I knew better.

Chase must have taken my phone yesterday and undone the block I’d placed on his number.

It wasn’t the first time he’d crossed boundaries like that. Ever since we started dating, we’d shared all our passwords and login details. I used to think it was romantic, a sign of trust and intimacy.

Now, it felt like chains.