Tanya

When I first saw Ashley on our doorstep that morning, all painted smiles and venom disguised as charm, I knew she'd come to ruin something. Christian's face had gone pale. His lips pressed together the way they always did when he was trying not to tell. He hadn't expected her return. None of us had. Their breakup had shattered him. I knew. I'd seen him piece himself together, one shattered part at a time.

And yet, there she was.

He sent her away without a second thought, anger rising like a tide he barely kept in check. But Ashley... she was relentless.

She started showing up every other day, finding the most inane reasons to knock on our door. Forgotten things, imaginary apologies, meaningless conversations. And every time she showed up, her eyes would flick to me with that cruel amusement, like I was a fly in the room she meant to swat.

The insults came next. Subtle at first.

"Oh, still here, Tanya? Thought you'd be gone by now."

Then bolder.

"You really think that pregnancy is going to trap him? Sweetheart, he's just being polite. Once he's bored, he'll come running back to me."

I tried to ignore her. I tried.

But one afternoon, she cornered me in the hallway. Locked the door behind her.

"You're nothing but a charity case," she spat, arms crossed. "A pathetic, little leech. You think sleeping with Christian will keep him from me? Get real."

I didn't speak. I couldn't. My throat closed up, and all I could do was blink back tears and will myself not to break in front of her.

When she finally left, the silence she left behind was somehow louder than her voice. I sat on the floor for an hour, crying quietly. My arms wrapped around my belly, not because it was big enough to cradle, no, not yet, but because I needed to believe this tiny inside me still mattered to someone. Even if that someone was only me.

Sarah saw me later and smirked. "Crying again? Might want to toughen up before the baby gets here."

I froze. How'd she know I was pregnant?

I didn't reply. I just turned away.

Then Christian came home.

His steps were heavy, tired. But the moment he saw my red eyes and trembling lips, everything else melted away. He rushed to me, kneeling, cupping my face.

"Tanya... what happened?"

I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't want to be the girl who constantly needed defending. But the words tumbled out anyway between hiccups, sobs, and trembling breaths.

He listened. Every word.

And then he kissed me.

Soft, slow and reassuring.

He held me that night, tighter than ever, whispering into my hair. "You don't need to be strong all the time, Tanya. You're not alone. I love you, okay? No matter what she says."

I fell asleep in his arms, the ache in my chest dulling just enough to let me rest.

When I woke up, sunlight poured into the room through the blinds. The space next to me was empty but still warm. Ok the nightstand sat a small plate of strawberries, my favourite, and a note, written in his messy scrawl :

"Good morning, Tanya. I didn't want to wake you. I'll be home early. I love you always. — A."

I touched the note to my lips and smiled.

That afternoon, Ashley came again.

I was already bracing for her venom, but something was different this time. Maybe it was the strawberries. Maybe it was the note. Or maybe I was just done playing the quiet victim.

She wakes in kike she owned he place, tossing her hair dramatically. "So, still pretending you're lady of the house?"

I set down the glass I was drying and turned to her, voice steady. "You can't keep coming here."

Her eyes sparkled with mockery. "Oh? And who's going to stop me? You?"

"Yes," I said simply. "I'm fine letting you talk me down to me, Ashley. Whatever you had with Christian is over. He chose to move on. You don't get to make me miserable just because you can't stand that."

She laughed. "Sweetheart, I made Christian. You think a sweet puppy like you can keep him?"

My hands trembled, but I held her gaze. "He doesn't need someone who made him. He needs someone who loves him. And you? You're not welcome here anymore."

The silence that followed was heavy. For the first time, Ashley didn't have a comeback. She just glared at me, lips curled in disgust.

"Fine," she hissed. "Enjoy it while it lasts. But this isn't over."

She left in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

And I... I felt powerful. For once, I'd stood up for myself. For the baby. For what little peace we'd carved out.

Feeling triumphant, I decided to visit the market. I wanted to surprise Christian with his favourite dinner — creamy pesto pasta, grilled chicken, and garlic bread. Something that reminded him of home. Of us.

The market buzzed with life and I felt lighter with every step. I imagined his smile when he saw the meal. I imagined us eating together, laughing. I even imagined telling him the baby's name I'd been thinking about.

But when I came home, the air felt... wrong.

I opened the door and froze.

It was the smell. That sharp tang of tangerines and citrus. Ashley's perfume.

My throat tightened. What was she doing here?

I shot it off, walked into the kitchen, and started unpacking the groceries. But then I heard it.

A noise.

A laugh.

A moan.

Coming from our bedroom.

My fingers went cold. My heart dropped.

"No..." I whispered.

I dropped the tomatoes and they rolled across the floor as I walked towards the bedroom, each step heavy. The door was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open.

And my world shattered.

There, tangled in our sheets, my sheets, was Christian.

And Ashley.

She was laughing. His arms were around her. Her lipstick smeared around his neck. My breath caught. The air dTanyappeared. My vision blurred, but the image was clear as glass.

He saw me first. His eyes widened in horror. "Tanya —"

I did wait to hear it.

I turned and I ran.

I ran until the city swallowed me whole. Until my legs gave out. Until I was sobbing, sobbing, shaking and cradling the bump that held the only piece of me that mattered.

How could he?

After everything. After the night he held me. The words he whispered. The strawberries.

He lied to me!

He chose her.

Again!

The image of Christian tangled in Ashley's arms burned behind my eyes. My chest aches but it was the sharp pain in my stomach that stopped me cold.

"No... no, please," I whispered, pressing my hand to my belly. "Not now."

I slowed down, trying to catch my breath, but the pain kept getting worse. Panic rose in my throat like bile. With trembling hands, I pulled out my purse from my bag and dialed my doctor.

"I need help," I choked out. "Something's wrong."

I tried to cross the street to wait for him at the corner but everything happened so fast.

The blare of a horn.

Screeching tires.

A sudden impact.

Then — nothing.

*****

I woke up to the sound of beeping machines and the cold chill of hospital sheets. My hands flew to my belly.

"My baby," I gasped.

The lady in white overalls drew near, her voice calm. "You're lucky. Both of you are fine. You just have some bruises and stress but you need to rest for your baby's sake."

I nodded, tears silently streaming down my cheeks.

Rest.

That should've been easy.

But how do you rest when the person you love the most doesn't even call to ask if you're alive?

I waited.

One day.

Two days.

Three.

No call. No text. Nothing from Christian.

It hurt more than the betrayal. More than the car that hit me.

He'd left me bleeding inside and didn't even look back.

By the fourth day, I was done with his bullshit.

I got dressed, ignored the nurse's protests, and checked myself out. If Christian wouldn't go to me, I'd go to him.

He needed to hear from me that I was carrying his child.

But when I reached his house, something stopped me.

His voice.

I froze at the door when I heard him in the living room, speaking to someone on the phone.

"She cannot be pregnant with my baby!" He said in a loud voice. "It was just a one-night stand. An accident. It didn't mean anything."

My heart cracked into a million pieces.

I backed away from the door, trying to breathe, trying not to scream.

I didn't want to hear more.

I dialed Ari, my best friend. My hands were shaking.

"Tanya?" She answered immediately. "Where have you been?"

"I'm coming over." I whispered, my voice barely holding together. "Please... just let me stay with you."

She didn't ask questions. "I'll be here."

I hung up and walked away from the house I once called home.