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.

Nydia's POV

I used to play the fool just to fit into Blake’s world.

It took me far too long to realize that I’d been the clown in his circus this whole time.

“So, Blake,” I asked calmly, “what do you think?”

He looked at me, irritated.

“Nydia, stop making excuses just because you don’t want to join in. Everyone’s here to have fun. Why ruin the mood? No one meant anything by it. Besides, this isn’t even the first time.”

In his eyes, I was probably the difficult one now.

As such, I stood up, picked up the expensive red wine, and slowly poured it out over the table.

Then, without flinching, I slammed the bottle right into the center of it.

The room fell silent. All eyes widened in shock.

Even Blake was too stunned to move.

Then, I turned and headed for the door.

But he grabbed my wrist.

“What are you throwing a tantrum for now? You can’t even take a joke? Nydia, I’m giving you a chance to apologize. Don’t ruin the night for everyone.”

Yet I yanked my hand back and stared coldly into his eyes.

“Blake, I don’t want to be with you anymore. I’m done. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want you.”

But he only burst out laughing.

“You’re negotiating with me now? Seriously? What do you even have to offer? You’ve got nothing, just a big pregnant belly. You should be grateful I haven’t left you.”

Despite his insult, I didn’t answer. I just turned and walked out.

Seeing me acting cold, he frowned, then followed me, blocking my way.

“Alright, fine,” he said. “Maybe I was a little harsh. Let’s forget about all this, okay? You don’t even have to apologize. Just be more understanding, alright?”

He leaned down, resting his chin on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me.

He once told me this was the closest two hearts could ever be.

But now, my arms just hung at my sides, and our hearts were miles apart. And they’d never be close again.

“One more thing,” he murmured. “I promised Polly I’d take her to Paris before the wedding. Think of it as closure for all of us. You stay home, take care of the baby, and when I get back, we’ll get married.”

My heart didn’t race. My chest didn’t ache. The love I used to feel had long since faded to nothing.

As such, I didn’t say a word.

And he took my silence as obedience.

“Good girl,” he said softly, kissing my forehead, then walked out.

I had once told him I wanted our honeymoon in Paris. I dreamed of walking with him hand-in-hand through the City of Love, locking our names on a bridge like it meant forever.

But not anymore.

Not now.

This time, Blake, I really didn't want you anymore.

As soon as I got home, I started packing.

I didn’t take a single thing he bought me.

They were all just leftovers—things Polly didn’t want.

I only packed a few clothes.

When I zipped up the suitcase, I realized something heartbreaking: eight years of love didn’t even fill one small piece of luggage.

Without looking back, I walked away.

Just before I entered the operating room, Blake sent me a message just to “check in.”

As the anesthesia flowed through my veins, he was boarding a plane with Polly, going to Paris.

As the instruments began their work, the tiny life inside me slowly disappeared.

Blake, this was the most painful lesson you’d ever taught me.

When I woke from the dream, all that greeted me was darkness.

No more heartbeat beneath my hands.

I then gently touched my belly, which was now empty.

I opened my phone, and the first post I saw was Polly’s update of a photo of her and Blake holding hands in Paris, smiling as they placed a love lock on a bridge.

A few days later, I received two new messages.

One from him, and one from my manager.

[Nydia, how did you manage to pay off all those penalties at once?]

[Nydia, I’m coming back. How are you and the baby?]