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747words
I found out I was pregnant at the doctor's office—right before I was supposed to get that tattoo removed.
The doctor smiled and told me I was two months along.
A little earlier, I would've been over the moon—running to tell Ryan, daydreaming about our baby.

But it had to be now.
Since I'd already made up my mind to leave him, I should've ended the pregnancy right then.
But when they called me in for the procedure,I froze. I changed my mind.
I thought, this child is mine—it has nothing to do with anyone else.
I wanted to keep it.
But I never thought I'd lose the baby in the end.

The pain got worse—deep, crushing, making every breath feel like a knife.
I stared at the doctor, my vision blurry, and asked, “I fell earlier… did that make me miscarry?”
The doctor sighed and shook her head. “No, it wasn't the fall. You've been under so much stress lately—so much emotional turmoil. That's what affected the pregnancy.”
“Before you came here, you must've gone through something really traumatic.Something that broke you. ”

“That's the main reason you lost the baby.”
“It's such a shame—the little one already had a heartbeat.”
I stood there frozen. After a minute, I covered my face and sobbed quietly, my shoulders shaking.
Three days later, I left the hospital.
During that time, Ryan never texted, never called to ask where I was. I didn't reach out to him.
No matter how close we used to be, once Annie returned, we turned into strangers who knew each other too well.
But I knew what Ryan was up to.
After all, Annie's Instagram never stopped updating.
Ryan was with her—singing at bars, drinking wine at vineyards, hiking in the mountains, picking flowers. Party after party, night after night.
Perfect.
They lived in their shiny little world, while my baby was gone—cold, and never coming back.
I coldly closed the app and wrapped myself tighter in a blanket. I was freezing, even inside.
Ryan showed up twenty-six days later.
By then, my body had mostly healed from the miscarriage.
He didn't notice anything wrong. He just pulled me into a lazy hug and said, “Sorry, babe, I've been slacking on you.”
“But don't worry, I've already started planning tomorrow's proposal.”
“No more mess-ups this time—I'll give you the proposal you deserve, okay?”
I stepped back, avoiding his touch and studied his face.
He'd clearly been happy lately—his eyes even had that little sparkle.
I smiled, soft and empty. “Really? You still wanna marry me?”
Ryan's phone buzzed. He pulled it out fast, grinning when he saw the screen.
Distracted, he nodded. “Of course. Weren't you the one who couldn't wait to marry me, remember?”
I paused, then said slowly, “Then I'll have a big gift for you too.”
Ryan nodded, not listening—already typing a reply. “Okay, I've gotta run out now. Stay here and wait for my surprise tomorrow.”
I pretended not to see Annie's text, “Hurry—waiting for you at the bar.” I just nodded, calm.
The next day, the proposal venue was over-the-top—fairy lights, roses, a live band.
But the guest of honor never showed.
Ryan grew anxious and angry—but he told himself I was just hiding, probably planning a surprise.
He held onto that hope, waiting by the stage.
But gradually, the crowd got restless, waiting by the stage.
“What's going on? Is Vivian playing hard to get now?”
“You think she changed her mind?”
“No way! Vivian was desperate to marry Ryan! She's probably just being dramatic. She'll come crawling back any second!”
They muttered among themselves, but their eyes kept flicking to the door.
But I never came.
Not until a delivery guy showed up at the door carrying a black box.
“Is there a Mr. Ryan here? A Ms. Vivian asked me to drop this off. Need a signature.”
Jake looked at the black box. His chest felt tight, for some reason.
The moment he signed his name, then tore the box open so fast the tape snapped.
His friends crowded around, curious.
Then they went quiet. Pale. Some ran to the bushes, throwing up.
Some even vomited on the spot.
Ryan trembled, stumbling back in disbelief.
He grabbed the box and hurled it—its contents splattering in the dir, red and messy and terrible.
“What the hell, Vivian? Ryan, you can't let her get away with this!”
Inside the box was… a piece of tissue,, soaked in blood.
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