Nydia's POV

All because I warned my manager about the breakfast shop of my boyfriend’s first love, my boyfriend decided to punish me by sending me, a five-month pregnant woman, on a hiking trip through Death Valley.

We’d been together for eight years. In that time, he always made me feel like I was his top priority.

But that changed the moment he took me to his beloved first love’s breakfast place.

His first love was well aware of my allergies. Still, she added something to my food on purpose. As a result, my face nearly broke out in blisters, and I was slapped with a massive breach-of-contract fine from my beauty endorsement deal.

Luckily, my manager saved me just in time and blacklisted that breakfast shop from any future brand collabs.

I thought that was the end of it. But I never expected my boyfriend to drop me off in the middle of nowhere in Death Valley.

With heaven's grace, I barely made it out alive. Just when I thought I could collapse and rest, I heard his voice laughing with his friends.

“It’s just a little lesson. Who does she think she is? Pregnant and unwed? Who else would even want her but me?

——

Also, her face hasn't healed yet, and her grandfather dumped her for some younger gold digger. And now she thinks she can go against Polly? Please. She messed up with the wrong girl and paid the price. Now, her face is ruined, and she has lost some cash.”

I stood outside the door, frozen. Every inch of my body trembled.

I survived that nightmare alone, dragging my battered body through hell for ten days. The only thing that kept me conscious was my love for Blake Briggs, an anchor that kept me from slipping away completely.

How ridiculous. Turned out, the man I loved for eight years was the one who pushed me off the cliff in the first place.

“What if she breaks up with you?” one of them asked.

Through the crack in the door, I saw Blake disdainfully smirk.

“She won’t leave,” he said, scoffing. “No one loves her. No one’s waiting for her. And come on. She’s five months pregnant. Who’s going to want her now?”

He looked so smug, like he’d already won.

“Besides,” he added with a sneer, “I’m her everything. She can’t survive without me. Pathetic, right?”

His words felt like a knife, pushing me off a cliff and shattering me into pieces.

He was so confident I wouldn’t leave.

I stumbled toward the security booth and begged to use a phone. The moment the call connected, I couldn’t hold back.

“Grandpa, it’s me. Nydia.”

Before I could say anything else, his voice cut in, cold and angry.

“Why are you calling? We have nothing to do with each other anymore. I’ve already thrown out all your things. Soon, I’ll be mailing you the contract to officially sever ties. So, don’t call again. You’re a disgrace!”

Blake was right.

Even my family didn’t love me anymore.

Eight years ago, he pulled me from the ocean and gave me a new life. He said I had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

Later, I found out it was because they reminded him of Polly Currey’s.

The rain then poured down, soaking my wounds and making them sting. With something on my mind, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic, blood blending with water as I stepped inside.

After the check-up, the doctor sighed. “Your previous allergic reaction has affected your body. You’re also malnourished, and the pregnancy is too far along. If you try to terminate now, it might put your own life at risk.”

Even after hearing the sad news, I didn’t flinch. While my body was shaking from the pain, my expression stayed blank.

“Do it,” I said.

The doctor nodded and replied, “I’ll schedule the operation for seven days from now. You need to rest and build up your strength in the meantime.”

When I got home, Blake was laughing and drinking with his friends, enjoying himself like nothing ever happened.

“Nydia, what’s with the zombie look?” he mocked. “You’ve got a baby in your belly, act like it.”

His face beamed with pride, like he’d just pulled off some grand performance.

For eight years, he’d acted like he loved me. And I believed every second of it.

Despite his taunt, I just turned around and walked back into the room.

There, our photo was still on display. But now, it just looked like one big joke.

Nydia's POV

Our wedding was set for next month.

I guess that was exactly how he planned it—to let the world see me as a bride with a baby bump.

Just then, a message popped up from my manager. She’d successfully arranged for me to pay off the breach-of-contract penalty in installments.

I let out a bitter laugh.

There was no one left behind me now. No family. No support.

That night, Blake quietly lay down beside me, his hand gently resting on my belly from behind.

"You and the baby okay?"

“Yeah.”

My voice was cold and distant.

He seemed surprised by my tone, caught off guard.

“Blake, do you still plan on marrying me?” I asked flatly.

He didn’t even hesitate to answer, “Of course.”

But before the moment could settle, Polly’s custom ringtone filled the room.

His hand immediately pulled away from my belly and answered it.

“Blake, please don’t leave me,” she sobbed on the other end of the line. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be alone…”

“Polly, don’t cry. I’m here, okay? I’m coming to you now.”

After saying that, he hung up and looked back at me.

“You heard her. She needs me right now. Try not to overthink, Nydia. I’ll give you everything I promised. Just take care of yourself.”

Maybe it was guilt that made him sound gentle.

Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out.

Turned out, it was not the ones who cry who get the sweet things in life. It's the ones who were truly loved.

I scanned the room around me.

Dozens of sticky notes lined the walls, all written by Blake. Sweet messages. Thoughtful reminders. Words of love.

Hours later, Polly posted a photo of Blake in the kitchen, cooking for her.

One word from her, and he’d cross the entire city just to please her. He remembered every single thing she liked.

And what did he want from me?

To be mature. To be understanding.

I was. I tried. But no matter how good I was, I never got the sweetness she did.

I tore all the sticky notes off the wall, shredding them into tiny pieces. But the glue clung to my skin and irritated my healing wounds.

The next morning, just as I was taking down our photo, I heard the door unlock.

It was Polly.

“Well, well,” she sneered, “I was wondering who this ugly mess was. Nydia, right? Look at you now. What do you even have left to compete with me?”

She didn’t bother sugarcoating anything.

“Do you need something?”

My tone was flat and emotionless.

“Oh, Nydia. I only came to take care of you,” she said with mock concern. “But if my presence is really that upsetting, I can leave. I don’t want to disrupt your life with Blake.”

Her voice then began to crack as she teared up.

Right then, I knew she was performing again for Blake.

She then stepped close and jabbed her sharp fingernail straight toward my belly.

So, instinctively, I pushed her away.

As such, she stumbled backward, knocking into the table. A glass then fell and shattered across the floor.

One shard cut into her leg, another grazed her arm.

Eyes brimming with tears, she screamed, “Polly!”

Hearing that, Blake dropped his bag and rushed straight to her side.

“I’m okay, Blake,” she said through her tears, playing the martyr. “As long as Nydia feels better, that’s what matters. Please, don’t be mad at her.”

The moment a single tear slid down her cheek, Blake exploded.

“Nydia! We’ve been patient with you because you’re pregnant, but this is too much! Can’t you let Polly live in peace?”

His face darkened, and his finger pointed at me like I was some kind of criminal.

“Blake, it’s my fault,” Polly said softly, tugging at his sleeve, all innocent and pitiful. “I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have interfered in your lives. Please don’t blame Nydia. This is all on me.”

“Nydia,” Blake snapped, “stop acting paranoid all the time. If something really was going on between me and Polly, do you think you’d still be standing here? What do you even have to offer anymore?”

Nydia's POV

I stayed silent as Blake spoke.

If this had happened before, I probably would’ve already apologized, maybe even begged him to forgive me.

But not anymore. I’d spent eight years playing the fool, so never again.

As the room fell quiet for a long time, Blake’s expression shifted from anger to confusion. He looked at me like he was trying to figure something out.

Maybe he was wondering why I wasn’t reacting, why I wasn’t rushing to make things right.

“I’m tired,” I said, turning back toward the bedroom. “I want to sleep.”

No excuses. No tears.

Now that I knew how things would end, I wasn’t scared of losing him anymore. Because the truth was, I never really had him in the first place.

That night, he climbed into bed beside me, quiet and careful. He slid his arm under my neck, resting it there like it meant something.

“Nydia,” he whispered, “just be understanding, okay? Stop making things hard for Polly. I’ve been exhausted lately. But don’t worry, I’ll give you the wedding I promised. On that day, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.”

The most beautiful bride?

Maybe I would’ve been once.

But not anymore.

Blake, I didn't want anything that had to do with you—not your wedding, not your love, not even your promises.

The next day, he drove both me and Polly to a friend’s gathering.

He made a show of being thoughtful, settling me in the backseat because it was “more comfortable.” Not minding it, I just stared out the window, trying to block out their flirty conversation in the front.

But every word felt like a blade.

When we arrived at the party, his friends were already whispering and smirking.

“Well, if it isn’t our dear brother Blake’s main wife and his side chick,” one of them joked, throwing a wink at Polly.

“Oh, don’t say that,” she replied, all bashful and sweet. “There’s nothing like that between me and Blake. Besides, Nydia’s already five months along. How could I even compare to her?”

She said it gently, like she was trying not to offend me. But every word was laced with smugness.

“Alright, knock it off,” Blake said casually, not because the joke bothered him, but probably because he was afraid I’d make a fuss again.

“Nydia, come sit here,” he said, pulling out a chair for me. Then, just as smoothly, he pulled out another for Polly.

When the server came by with wine, Blake stopped him before he could pour into her glass.

“She doesn’t need any,” he said. “She doesn’t handle alcohol well. Just a sip and she’ll feel sick.”

I looked at the full glass in front of me and couldn’t help the bitterness that settled in my chest.

Same table, same drink. But the love? Not even close.

After a few rounds of wine, someone suggested we play a party game.

The rules were simple: spin the wine glass and wherever it stops, that person has to do a dare.

The first spin landed on Polly.

The group shouted suggestions until they settled on one: she had to do a nose-to-nose dare with a guy of her choice.

Her cheeks flushed pink, but then she turned to Blake.

“Blake, is that okay?”

Blake glanced at me, and I didn’t say a word.

So he nodded.

Everyone cheered. But I only felt numb in my heart.

When they finished the dare, both of them were clearly flustered, acting like teenagers.

“You two should just get married already,” someone laughed. “I always said you were perfect for each other, and I wasn't wrong. I still remember all the crazy stuff Blake did for Polly back in the day.”

Blake cleared his throat, and the guy instantly shut up.

Then he reached over and patted my head.

“Don’t take it seriously, Nydia. Everyone’s just joking around.”

I squeezed out a big smile, shook my head, and played along like it didn’t hurt.

Successfully, Blake looked pleased, like I was being a good girl.

Then the bottle spun again and stopped in front of me.

“Hey, how about this?” one of his friends smirked. “Why don’t you act like a clown? Pretty fitting, don’t you think? You looked just like one after that allergic reaction. Ugly and ridiculous.”

The whole table burst into laughter.

I slowly turned to look at Blake, and he didn’t say a word.

Not even a hint of discomfort on his face.

To him, this was just normal.

Of course it was. This wasn’t the first time his friends had disrespected me. And it sure wouldn’t be the last.