No Longer Yours, My Ex-fiance

For the ninety-seventh time, my boyfriend of eight years was in a secret relationship, Soren Whitaker, once again chose to abandon me for his first love, Hannah Ruiz.

The first time was on the day he proposed to me. Coincidentally, it was also the day Hannah returned to the country. I waited for him by the seaside, standing in the cold wind all night.

The second time was on my twenty-fifth birthday, a party he had carefully planned. On the way home, we were ambushed. To protect the two of them, I was seriously injured. Yet Soren left me behind and carried Hannah away.

This time, the ninety-seventh time, I was in my second trimester of pregnancy. I slipped at home.

I called him. He said he’d be there soon. I endured the sharp, unbearable pain and waited for half an hour. The ambulance arrived and just then, I got a message from him, saying, [Hannah’s depression flared up. I have to go to her.]

I didn’t reply. I simply picked up the pen and signed the surgery consent form myself.

The baby couldn’t be saved. After crying through the night, I greeted Soren the next day with a cheerful smile.

What he didn’t know was that I was only waiting for the ninety-ninth time he would hurt me.

After that, I would leave completely. Just because he had once been kind to me ninety-nine times.

But when I finally boarded the helicopter to Europe and reclaimed my identity, why did he break down in tears, begging me to look at him just one last time?

***

Looking at that cold line of text on my phone, tears burst from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks and blurring the pool of blood beneath me.

Before being wheeled into the operating room, I steadied my voice and dialed a number in Europe.

“Send a helicopter to Texas. This time, I’ll go back with you.”

There was a two-second pause on the other end as if they couldn’t believe what they heard and then they answered quickly, afraid I might change my mind again.

I hung up and silently said goodbye to Soren in my heart. That’s it.

I didn’t want to love this kind of man anymore. If the child wasn’t meant to stay, then so be it.

After comforting the emotionally shattered Hannah, Soren came to see me at the hospital.

When he learned the baby couldn’t be saved, his eyes filled with guilt and pain. He held me tightly, gently kissed the top of my head and softly patted my back.

“We’ll have another child in the future.”

My eyes welled with tears, soaking my lashes. Soren lay beside me, holding me close. The long-lost warmth made me instinctively nestle into his arms.

He kissed the corner of my lips.

“Sleep. No matter what happens tonight, I’ll be here with you.”

Feeling reassured, I closed my eyes, about to drift off, when his phone suddenly vibrated.

Hannah’s timid voice came through the crackling static. “Soren, I had a nightmare… So much blood… I… I’m scared…”

Before she could finish, Soren had already gotten out of bed and started dressing.

“Hannah’s condition still isn’t stable. Here in Texas, I’m the only one she trusts. I have to go take care of her.”

His voice was soft. I couldn’t tell if he was speaking to me or just murmuring to himself.

I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep, saying nothing.

Soren seemed relieved, leaned down to kiss my forehead and tiptoed away.

Hannah was his first love.

Years ago, when the Ruiz Family went bankrupt, she was sent abroad to avoid trouble and broke up with Soren.

A year ago, she returned in a high-profile way. From that moment on, she became a shadow between me and Soren, always there, never fading.

She always found a way to appear at the most important moments between us, using any excuse to pull him away.

Countless times, she used her so-called depression episodes to take away the nights that should have belonged to me and Soren.

She clung to the guilt he felt for her. Later, she claimed she couldn’t afford rent and moved into the home I shared with Soren. Then, pouting and saying she couldn’t sleep well alone, she insisted he stay by her side.

At first, Soren complained to me. But eventually, he simply sent me out of the master bedroom and let Hannah move in. Lying awake in the guest room, I could sometimes hear Hannah’s coy whining and Soren’s helpless attempts to comfort her.

They grew closer and closer. Compared to me, Hannah seemed more like Soren’s wife. Slowly, her place in his heart became greater than mine.

Just like today, when I, five months pregnant, fell and started bleeding heavily. Yet Soren, just because Hannah said she was feeling down, ignored my life and ran to her.

And now, once again, because she had a nightmare, he broke his promise to me and quietly left to be with her.

Not long after he left, I received a hotel check-in message. He had sent it to the wrong number.

A little while later, I saw Hannah had just posted a video on social media.

She was curled sweetly in Soren’s arms, waving a sparkler, her face glowing with joy.

I froze for a moment, then absentmindedly gave the post a like. The composition was quite nice.

From my phone’s notes, I pulled up a list and marked a check after the ninety-eighth time.