Rejection

Darla pov

“That’s not my baby.” His voice echoed through the room, sharp and cold, slicing through the warm, celebratory atmosphere we’d carefully set up. Everyone went still, and I felt my heart lurch, every beat heavy with disbelief. I stared at him with wide eyes, hoping I’d misheard.

“What?” The word barely escaped my lips, a fragile whisper.

He didn’t even flinch. “That is not my baby,” he repeated, louder, as if to make sure everyone—his family, all gathered here—would hear. The room seemed to close in on me, and what was supposed to be our happiest moment had turned into a public spectacle.

“Do you think you can trap me with this?” His voice was laced with disdain.

Trap him?

I felt the words hit like stones, disbelief twisting in my stomach. This was Roy, my fiancé, the man I’d been with since college. We’d dreamed together, talked about the beach wedding I’d always wanted, set for three months from now. We had planned a future. He was my first love, the man I’d given everything to. I remembered that night so clearly—the night I gave myself to him, the promises he’d made to me. He’d told me he wanted to make me the happiest woman alive, that all I had to do was show him how much I loved him by giving him my body. It was the best night of my life and now I am beginning to think that it was just a nightmare.

I felt like I was standing outside myself, watching this moment from some distant place, hoping I’d wake up, that this was some horrible prank, that he’d go back to being the man I thought I knew.

“Son, what is going on?” Mr. Claus stepped up beside him, a stern look on his face.

Roy sneered, not even sparing me a glance. “This bitch thinks she can sleep around and then pin the baby on me.”

Bitch. Sleep around. The words hit me like a ton of bricks, heavier and uglier than anything I’d ever heard from him. No one seemed to notice that it was the first time he’d called me something so vile. I felt the heat of every gaze on me, as if I’d suddenly become someone they barely recognized.

Roy grabbed his father’s arm, his face twisted in disgust. “You always taught me to find a woman who’d keep herself for her husband, right? Well, I thought I had.” He turned, his eyes cold, filled with contempt as they bore into mine. “But I guess I was wrong. How am I supposed to uphold the family image when she’s trying to ruin it with a bastard child?”

My heart pounded so hard it felt like I was floating, as if my body couldn’t keep up with the humiliation coursing through me. The people around us—friends, family—stared at me with judgment, their eyes piercing as if I were some stranger caught in an unforgivable act.

“Roy, what is the meaning of this? You know this is your baby. You were the one who—” I began, my voice trembling, barely able to piece my sentence together.

But before I could finish, his hand struck my face. The slap echoed through the room, and I staggered back, my cheek stinging as the room seemed to spin. I looked up in shock, holding my cheek, trying to understand how the man I loved had just hit me.

“Get this woman out of my house,” Mr. Claus’s voice cut through the silence, cold and resolute.

My legs gave way, and I crumpled to the floor, surrounded by whispers, stares, and the overwhelming ache of betrayal.

Roy tossed his ring onto the floor with a cold, final gesture, his back already turned to me. Without a single word, he walked away, leaving me standing in the wreckage of everything I thought we’d built together. In that moment, with the engagement ring lying on the floor between us, I understood that it was over. The life I’d dreamed of had shattered in an instant.

Before I could gather myself, I felt a sudden, sharp tug at my hair, pulling me down. I was dragged across the cold floor, the pain searing through me as I tried to hold onto some last shred of dignity. Mrs. Claus’s face loomed above me, her eyes icy and unforgiving, the last thing I saw before she shoved me out and slammed the door in my face.

I stayed on the ground for what felt like an eternity, crumpled and sobbing. Three minutes passed, and it still wasn’t enough to process what had happened. But I knew I couldn’t stay there. I had to get out before something even worse happened.

“Need a ride?” A voice came from behind me, startling me. I turned, wiping the tears from my eyes, and saw Ethan standing there, watching me with a steady gaze. He held a glass of wine in one hand, his other casually tucked in his pocket, as if he’d been there all along.

My first instinct was to decline. I’d been humiliated enough, and the last thing I wanted was for Roy to accuse me of running off with his best friend too. But before I could say anything, Ethan opened the door to his car and leaned against it, waiting patiently.

I got in, feeling too broken to argue. As he drove, I sat silently in the passenger seat, tears streaming down my face. Ethan didn’t say a word, just kept his eyes on the road, respecting the quiet that was now my only refuge. I barely knew him, beyond his quiet presence at gatherings, the way he stayed in the background, unnoticed.

I couldn’t bring myself to explain anything, and he didn’t press. He just let me cry, the only sound in the car the steady hum of the engine and my own muffled sobs. How I cried all the way to my house wasn’t new to me, I have a cursed ability of breaking down at every little interval and this wasn’t new to me.

I stepped out of the car, wiping my tear-streaked face, trying to gather myself before facing my family. I couldn’t bear the thought of them knowing what had just happened to me. Taking a deep breath, I glanced back at Ethan, ready to thank him. He only gave a slight nod before turning to head back to his car.

But before I could say a word, a deafening boom shook the air, sending me stumbling backward. I fell hard onto the ground, my eyes widening in horror as flames and smoke began to engulf the mansion before me.

“Are you okay?” Ethan’s voice broke through the haze, and I felt his hands lifting me as I stared, paralyzed, at the burning house.

“My family…” My voice cracked as I struggled to my feet, my instincts pushing me forward, but Ethan’s arms wrapped around me, holding me back.

“Let me go!” I kicked and screamed, clawing at him, desperation clawing at my insides. But his grip was strong, and he pulled me close, refusing to let me run into the flames.

“You can’t do anything,” he said, his voice steady but pained.

“My family is in there! I have to save them!” I choked out, pleading, my voice breaking. I couldn’t just stand there while everything, everyone I loved, burned.

And then, as if in a nightmare, a second explosion ripped through the mansion, followed almost immediately by a third, even louder, knocking us both backward. Shards of glass flew through the air, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the impact.

But Ethan’s body shielded mine. I felt the force of him pressed against me as we hit the ground, and when I opened my eyes, his face was inches from mine. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with pain.

The world around us seemed to dissolve in chaos, the flames consuming the mansion, but all I could see was Ethan, leaning against his car, protecting me even as he bled. And all I could hear were the desperate cries that escaped my lips as I realized that everything was slipping away.

I rose shakily, my vision blurred, my legs unsteady beneath me. Blood trailed down my legs, warm and sticky, but I barely registered the pain. It was nothing compared to the ache spreading through my chest.

Everything started to fade, the edges of my vision darkening, pulling me into an eerie silence. My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving ground. The world dissolved around me, the flames and smoke blurring into nothingness, and at last, a quiet stillness settled over me, wrapping me in a deep, heavy darkness.