7
505words
“Viv, please don't do this to me. It hurts.”
He said it with red-rimmed eyes.
But I felt nothing. I just shoved the door hard.
Ryan cried out in pain and pulled his hand back.
Watching him stumble away, clutching his hand, I said coolly, “You pull back when you feel pain—why expect me to stay the same after everything I've been through?”
“Or did you and your friends always think I was just that pathetic?”
Ryan's eyes darted away, and he stayed silent.
But his silence said everything.
I smirked scornfully and shut the door firmly.
I didn't dwell on it—slept soundly that night.
But when I opened the door the next morning, Ryan was still there.
It was the middle of winter. He was huddled in a corner, wrapped clumsily in his coat.
He looked rough—dark circles, unshaven—probably hadn't slept all night.
Only then did I see what my coworker meant—Ryan looked worn out.
When he saw me, his dull eyes lit up, and he rushed over. “Viv!”
I was getting impatient, not understanding why he wouldn't leave me alone.
This Ryan was different—none of his usual cold pride, just clingy and desperate.
The passionate, devoted Ryan I'd only seen in Annie's posts was now on full display for me.
But it was too late.
“Viv, I know I was wrong.”
“I promise I won't see Annie again. I'll give you the proposal you deserve—just come back with me, okay?”
“Viv, please, just talk to me…”
He begged, his eyes shattered.
But I felt nothing—just annoyed.
After a few days of this, it was Ryan's friends who cracked first.
They'd somehow found their way to my city and showed up at my place.
“Ryan, look at this!”
They shoved some papers at him, glared angrily at me, and said through gritted teeth, “After all this, you're still begging her? Let's go. Annie's waiting for you!”
They seemed sure Ryan would leave with them after reading.
But to their surprise, Ryan's hands shook as he held the papers, his expression growing more and more devastated.
Finally, he shoved them away, rushed over to me, and asked desperately, “Viv, is this true?”
He held out the papers—my hospital records, even the ultrasound photo.
But one sheet clearly said “Miscarriage.”
I didn't deny it. “Yes, it's true.”
Ryan opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
But all he could do was collapse to his knees, screaming silently.
He pressed those papers against his chest like he wanted to crush them into his heart.
His friends were shocked, rushing over to help him up.
“Ryan, what are you doing? Is she really worth this?”
“She aborted your baby just to leave you—what kind of heartless woman does that? She's nothing compared to Annie!”
“You said you really loved her—but what's to love?”
“People like her—who throw away love—should swallow a thousand needles, just like they say online!”
