Chapter three

The first day of my antenatal class had been a mixed bag of emotions. I’d thought it might help to be around other women who were pregnant, who might be going through the same fears and uncertainties that I was. But the moment I walked into that room, I knew I didn’t quite fit in. Not because I was younger than most of them or because I was single. Everyone looked so happy, so relaxed with their partner. There was only me

And there was *her*.

Karen.

She was the kind of woman who made you feel out of place just by looking at you. The kind who could make your insecurities rise to the surface without even saying much. From the moment I entered the room, her eyes had landed on me with a quick up-and-down glance, and I could feel the judgment. Karen always had something to say, and it was never pleasant.

"Interesting choice of outfit," she had murmured the first time, her lips curled into a smirk. I was in a simple sundress that I had pulled on in a rush, but apparently, it wasn’t good enough for Karen’s standards.

I never responded. I wasn’t about to engage in some petty argument with a stranger over clothes. But every week, Karen found something new to pick on.

“You know, they say if you don’t eat right during pregnancy, it’ll show on the baby. Maybe that’s something you should consider,” she commented, her gaze flicking over to my plate one afternoon after class. I had been eating a small snack to settle my nausea. Karen, of course, was nibbling on organic almonds or something equally pretentious.

Still, I didn’t respond. I couldn’t let her know that her words bothered me. That would give her too much power. Instead, I would sit there, quietly listening to the class, focusing on the baby growing inside me, and ignoring Karen’s snide remarks. I knew it made her furious. She wanted a reaction. But I wasn’t going to give her one.

She, on the other hand, always looked flawless. Despite being pregnant, Karen somehow managed to wear the latest designer clothes, each outfit perfectly tailored to accentuate her bump in a way that looked effortless. I often wondered how she could afford it all—or why she bothered. She treated pregnancy like it was a fashion show, and I felt like an outsider in comparison, especially when I was wearing the same three outfits on rotation because nothing else fit anymore.

That particular day, after class had ended, I was heading out when I bumped into Karen again. She was standing by the door, waiting for someone. I gave her a brief nod, hoping to avoid another confrontation, but then I saw him.

Her fiancé.

My heart stopped. There he was—the man from that night. The one I had been trying to forget, the one who was now the father of my child. And he was standing there, smiling down at Karen like nothing had ever happened. Like he wasn’t part of the mess I was currently living.

For a moment, the world around me seemed to fade. All the noise, the movement, the chattering people—none of it registered. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my chest.

Karen, of course, noticed my reaction. She tilted her head, watching me closely as if sensing that something was off. "Oh, have you met my fiancé?" she asked, her voice dripping with sweetness that I knew wasn’t genuine.

He turned toward me, and for a split second, our eyes locked. Recognition flickered in his gaze, but he quickly masked it with a polite smile. "Hey, nice to meet you I am Asher," he said, extending his hand.

I couldn’t breathe.

I froze, staring at his outstretched hand, my mind racing. Asher. So that was his name. The man who had turned my life upside down in one night was standing right in front of me, completely oblivious to the chaos he’d left behind. Or at least, pretending to be. I couldn’t tell if he genuinely didn’t recognize me or if he was just really good at hiding it.

For a moment, I considered taking his hand, playing along with the charade. But then Karen’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and pointed as ever.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said with a laugh, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. She was watching me closely, too closely. It was as if she could sense something wasn’t right, and I didn’t want to stick around long enough to give her any more reason to dig deeper.

“I—I have to go,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, I turned and hurried out of the building, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear anything else.

I needed to get away. Away from Karen, from Asher, from the horrible, sinking feeling that had settled in my chest. It felt like the walls were closing in, like I couldn’t breathe.

I rushed to my car, fumbling with the keys as I tried to unlock the door. My hands were shaking, and it took me a few tries before I finally got it open. As soon as I was inside, I slammed the door shut and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes as I tried to calm the storm raging inside me.

What was I going to do? How could I possibly face him again, knowing he was engaged to Karen, knowing that he had no idea about the baby? Or did he know? Had he figured it out the moment he saw me, and he was just playing it cool in front of her?

I couldn’t think straight. I needed to talk to someone—someone who could help me make sense of this mess. Silver. She would know what to do. She always did.

I started the car and drove to Silver’s house, the familiar route calming me slightly as I tried to gather my thoughts. Silver had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. She was the one person I could always count on, no matter what. If anyone could help me figure out what to do next, it was her.

When I arrived at her house, I parked outside and took a deep breath before getting out of the car. I could hear voices inside, faint but unmistakable. One of them was Silver’s, laughing at something. But the other voice—the other voice made me stop.

It was *him*.

Ryan.

My ex.