Fiancée Pregnant by Best Friend — I Put Her in Her Place

The night before our wedding, I got a text from Elena’s childhood friend, Dale Smith.

[Happy Wedding. I left your gift in Lenny’s belly. Hope you like it.]

I was so furious I stormed off to confront Lenny. And when she couldn’t dodge my questions anymore, she finally admitted the truth—hesitant, stammering and guilty as hell.

“It was that night after the class reunion. We had too much to drink. Dale offered to take me home. One thing led to another and…”

“I swear, it was just one time! Who knew I’d get knocked out? But don’t worry. Dale wouldn't care for marriage. He said he’ll raise the baby and we don’t have to be involved.”

That same night, Dale showed up at our apartment with a suitcase in hand, like he owned the place, declaring he was moving in to take care of pregnant Elena.

Elena curled up in his arms and when she looked at me, there was this look—like I was some unwanted intruder.

“Clifton, Dale is the baby’s father. Isn’t it only fair that he’s involved during the pregnancy?”

“How about you leave for now and when the baby’s born, you can come back and take care of me after delivery?”

——

If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I wouldn’t have believed the woman I loved for eight damn years could say something so shameless.

In a split second, the face I used to find so beautiful, so enchanting, became utterly unfamiliar—and repulsive.

I was too stunned to form a response and Elena took that silence as agreement.

“Come on, Dale, I’ll show you around.”

She wrapped her arm around his like it was the most natural thing in the world and led him through the apartment.

“This is the office and that’s mine and Clifton’s room. Your room will be—”

“Silly,” Dale reached out and pinched her cheek. “You’ve always kicked the blanket off in your sleep. I’m gonna sleep in the same bed as you. So I can keep better eye on you.”

Lenny blushed like a schoolgirl and gave him a gentle punch in the chest. “Stop it,” she pouted—but she didn’t object.

If anyone had walked into our home right then, they’d have thought they were the couple about to get married—and I was just some awkward third wheel.

But honestly, that feeling wasn’t new. It had been hanging over me ever since she first introduced me to Dale.

Elena and I had met overseas. We were both international students from the same community, bonded at a college alumni gathering. Shared culture, shared hobbies—it was easy to fall in love.

We spent seven carefree years studying abroad, then came back home together and started meeting each other’s families.

It all went downhill the moment we started introducing friends.

From the very first meeting, Dale made his presence known. He pulled Elena into his arms right in front of me and gave her this long, gross, three-minute French kiss.

By the time I managed to pry them apart, Dale was laughing, mocking me for being so uptight. And Elena just brushed it off, saying they were like siblings, grew up wearing the same shirts and shorts—that there was no way they’d ever fall for each other.

Back then, I was so in love with her, I swallowed everything despite the jealousy. 

At every gathering afterward, Dale acted like he was trying to provoke me on purpose—always hugging Elena, touching her, painting me as the jealous boyfriend in front of our friends.

I tolerated it all, thinking that once we got married, Elena would start setting boundaries.

Never in my worst nightmares did I think they’d hit me with this surprising ‘wedding gift’.

Elena pulled Dale into our bedroom, like I wasn’t even standing there. And before long, I started hearing those all-too-familiar sounds.

“Hmph… you’re so good, Dale…”

Through the crack in the door, I saw her—limp, like a boneless doll, draped across Dale’s lap, her body moving with his in slow, deliberate rhythm, her face flushed and full of desire.