Ava’s POV

My hands shake as I dial Lila’s number, the phone icy against my ear. I’m so furious I can hardly catch my breath, a blaze surging in my heart that feels unfamiliar. Jake’s treachery, the expenses, being unemployed, it’s overwhelming, and now I’m contacting the woman who betrayed me.

“Hello?” Lila catches on quickly, her tone oozing with artificial sweeteners, as if she’s trying out for a romantic comedy.

“Lila, it’s Ava,” I retorted, lacking any tolerance for her performance. “Is Jake with you?”

A long pause, then a weak, “What? No, of course not.”

“Cut the crap, Lila. You think I don’t know you’re screwing my ex? Ava, pay attention—” she begins, her voice changing to one of damage control.

“I no longer care about your affair,” I interrupted her, squeezing the phone tightly enough that my knuckles throb.

“I no longer care about your affair,” I interrupted, squeezing the phone tightly enough that my knuckles hurt. “Put Jake on. Now.”

Another silence, then Lila’s voice sharpens, like she’s dropping the mask. “You don’t care? Even knowing I’m pregnant?”

Her words hit like a slap. Pregnant? My vision blurs, rage boiling over. “What, you think that’s a win?” I hissed. “You think you’ve got him locked down now?”

“Well, he doesn’t know yet, but he loves me, Ava. He’d never hurt me like—”

“Like he hurt me?” I laugh, bitter and cold. “He loved me too, Lila. Swore it every day while he was slipping drugs into my smoothies to keep me from getting pregnant. You think you’re special? A guy that is scared of a kid will do the same to you.”

“That’s not true!” she protests. “He’s got a job, Ava. He’s a trader. He didn’t tell you because he knew you’d mooch off him.”

I almost laugh again, but it’s too sad. “Lila, you poor thing. He’s no trader. He’s a liar. You know how he’s been spoiling you? Those fancy dinners, those gifts?”

“Yeah, because he’s got money!” she insists, but there’s a crack in her voice.

“With credit cards he opened in my name!” I yell, my throat burning. “He’s bankrupted me, Lila. "I’m calling the police, and if I were in your shoes, I’d verify your credit rating before he takes advantage of you as well."

“No,” she murmurs, as if attempting to persuade herself. "My situation is different now."

“I don’t care what happens to you,” I say, my voice trembling now, tears streaming down my face. “However, if you are truly expecting, that child merits more than an untrustworthy father and a cardboard box as a bed. That’s where Jake’s heading.”

I hang up before she can answer, my hands shaking so bad I drop the phone. Tears flow down as I sink into my couch, wrapping my arms around my knees. How could I trust Jake’s deceit for such a long time? The job hunts, the excuses, the charm. He chipped away at me, smiling the whole time, and I let him. Never again. I swear it to myself, wiping my face. No one’s fooling me twice.

But revenge on Jake can wait. Right now, I’ve got to save what’s left of my life. I need to report the fraud, see if the police can do anything. I can’t raise a baby if I’m drowning in debt, and the thought of losing that dream, it’s like a knife in my gut.

In the precinct, the officer hardly raises his gaze from his desk. “Apologies, Miss Bennett,” he replies, his tone emotionless, as if reciting lines from a play. "If your ex left the area, there’s little we can do. Here’s a report for the credit card companies. That’s it.”

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. If I were someone like Liam Carver, this guy would be tripping over himself to help. But I’m just a broke nanny, so I get a shrug and a form. I storm out before I scream at him, dialing the credit card companies from the sidewalk, my breath fogging in the cold.

One by one, they shut me down. “Without an arrest, you’re liable for the charges,” the last rep says, her voice clipped. I hang up, my knees weak. I’m done. No job, no savings, and now this. I can’t even turn to Sophie, she’s fighting her own battle with the clinic.

Tomorrow’s the day I find out if I’m pregnant. These past couple of days, I have definitely felt…. So different. Not physically, but deep inside, like a quiet certainty that I’m not the same Ava I was last week. I thought it meant the insemination worked, a tiny miracle holding me together. Now, I’m scared it’s just wishful thinking, my heart playing tricks.

Trying to distract myself, I flip on the TV and freeze. Liam Carver’s face fills the screen, all sharp jawline and calm confidence, talking about his latest charity project. “Our goal is to transform the Manhattan Children’s Center into a beacon of hope,” he says. “Every kid deserves a loving home, and we’ll ensure foster placements are followed up to keep them safe.”

I scoff, bitterness twisting in my chest. What a saint. Acting like he cares about orphans while he’s ruining Sophie’s life and mine. I grew up in a place like that center, cold beds, empty promises. Sophie did too. Where’s his compassion for us? It’s all for show, those blue eyes selling the lie. Jake was a good liar too, but Liam’s on another level, all charm and power.

I shake my head, disgusted with myself. Why am I even noticing his looks? He’s a heartless billionaire who had me tossed onto the street like trash, and I’m still thinking about his stupid charisma. Pathetic.

I crawl into bed early, but sleep won’t come. My mind spins, picturing a kid, my kid growing up like I did, alone in a system that doesn’t care. I’ve wanted to be a mom my whole life, but if I’m pregnant, what then? I can’t afford a baby.

I can barely afford it. The word abortion creeps in, and it feels like a betrayal of everything I am. I curl up tighter, tears soaking my pillow, praying tomorrow brings a miracle.