Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me.

I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?"

My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?"

The line went dead in the next second.

When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat.

I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet.

Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

In the past, I'd have called Milo Prince frantically, demanding answers.

Now I rested my hand on my belly and stayed eerily calm, as if losing the baby had drained every ounce of feeling I had for him.

Hours earlier, I'd been thinking about what our baby would look like and if they would look more like Milo or me.

I'd hoped they'd have his good looks and my sweet personality.

But now, my belly was flat. The life tied to me by blood was gone. All my hope for the future was shattered.

I had loved Milo for six years. He had me at hello, and I chased him for three years until he finally said yes.

The night he proposed, I was over the moon, convinced he'd fallen for me and was ready to build a life together.

But that same night, heading to his study to discuss wedding plans, I overheard him on the phone.

His friend sounded confused. "You're not marrying Elaine just because Jessica left the country, right? That's a gamble. How will you explain this to her when Jessica comes back? Elaine chased you for three years, and you proposed. Good luck shaking her off."

I stood outside, expecting Milo to deny it and claim that he wanted to marry me out of love, but he stayed silent.

After a while, he broke it, sounding frustrated. "I'll marry who I want."

The flick of a lighter and the smell of tobacco followed. He never smoked, his hesitation evident.

Before this, I thought he just hadn't seen my worth yet. Once we were married, he'd come to love me. Now I realized love wasn't something one could force, no matter how much they gave.

His heart was a stone, impossible to melt.

...

When I dragged myself home, weak from the miscarriage, Milo lounged on the sofa with a newspaper.

"Give me a massage," he said, not looking up.

I ignored him, sinking onto the sofa to rest.

He rubbed his forehead, annoyed. "I'm sorry, okay? Last night was Jessica's birthday. I couldn't ruin her day. I'm beat. Can you just be reasonable for once?"

I used to feel bad about how hard he worked, so I learned massage to ease his tension. Every evening, I'd massage his shoulders and do everything else to make him comfortable.

Now those tender feelings were gone. "Milo, we're done."

Three years after the proposal, we still hadn't gotten our marriage certificate.

I used to pester Milo about when we'd make it official. He'd just laugh, "Aren't we basically married already? What's a piece of paper gonna change?"

I hadn't argued but felt disappointed.

When I found out I was pregnant, I thought it would push him to marry me and give our child a proper family.

Now I rejoiced that we never formalized it, saving me a lot of trouble.

I touched my belly. The life in there was gone, and my heart no longer beat for Milo.

He frowned. "Jessica is an old friend. She has just got back and doesn't know anyone else here. What's wrong with celebrating her birthday? Stop getting jealous over nothing?"

I gave a bitter smile. My belly still ached faintly from the miscarriage, yet I felt a strange relief.

My child wouldn't be happy to have someone like Milo as his dad.

When I didn't respond, he tossed a box onto the table like it was an afterthought. "Alright, Jessica shouldn't have hung up on you. Take this as her apology."

It was a pink necklace, missing some diamonds. It was her style, not mine. I never liked pink.

Then I recalled the bracelet on her wrist yesterday. It was the Prince family's heirloom, passed down to the wives.

I had begged to try it on after his proposal, which was a fair request, but he had refused, saying it was for our wedding.

Believing him, I waited patiently for three years. Now Jessica was wearing it.

The one in front of me? It was probably some castoff she didn't want anymore, and Milo passed it to me.

I snorted, tossing the box in the trash. "I'm not a dumpster for her trash."

Milo's patience wore thin. He shot to his feet, glaring. "Jessica picked that to make up with you. You're gonna treat her kindness like that?"

His voice was thick with anger, but I wasn't scared. "She got your heirloom, and I got her trash. That's her idea of an apology? Admit it, you care about her way more than me. I'll just step aside and make way for her."

He took a deep breath, his face dark. "Are you serious?"

I nodded without hesitation. "Yes."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "I'm trying to make this right, and you're still jealous of Jessica? Get a grip! For the child's sake, chill out!"

Milo stormed into the study, slamming the door.

Since Jessica came back, we'd been fighting nonstop for the past year. Whenever things got heated, he'd lock himself away, leaving me to cool off.

I used to hold out hope that he'd see my worth someday, so no matter how angry I was, I'd calm down, bring him milk, and massage his shoulders to make peace.

This time, I just packed quietly and left.

Dragging my suitcase down the street, I saw a young couple roughhousing.

The girl screamed at a bug and jumped into the guy's arms. He held her tightly, patted her back, and soothed her.

It reminded me of meeting Milo for the first time.

I was leaving my night shift when a group of drunks cornered me.

There wasn't anyone else, and they snatched my phone. I couldn't call for help.

I backed away, praying for a miracle until Milo appeared like a hero. He grabbed my hand, and we ran.

That moment branded him into my heart. From then on, I couldn't stop watching him.

He had a childhood sweetheart, Jessica. Everyone at school called them a perfect couple.

I buried my feelings, but my eyes betrayed them. Maybe that was why he proposed to me when Jessica left the country.

Sense told me that it might be just an impulsive decision, but I clung to the hope he'd been moved by me.

I had liked him for three years. When happiness was within reach, I had no reason to say no.

For two years, we were happy.

He'd check in with me, give me gifts on special days, and stay by my side when I was sick.

Gradually, I forgot about Jessica, believing Milo had fallen for me.

Then she came back a year ago, shattering my dream.

Compared to her, I was disposable. One call from her, and he'd drop everything and go to her regardless of time.

His broken promises and abandonment finally woke me up. He never loved me.

I planned to end this, hesitating when I found out I was pregnant. I clung to the hope that a baby might make us a real family and push him to choose me over Jessica.

But reality slapped me hard.

He didn't care about the baby, leaving me alone at home and letting Jessica hang up my desperate call.

He never even asked why I called. One-sided love always ended in loss.

But it was okay.

At least, I got out in time.