Edward and I held our engagement party in Las Vegas. Everything seemed perfect—until someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare.

One of Edward's female coworkers looked me straight in the eye. "I am pregnant. It is your fiancé's baby."

Laughter burst out around us. Everyone thought it was a joke—except Edward.

After the trip, we returned home. He looked uneasy.

"I'm the father of Juliet's baby," he admitted.

"Don't overthink it. We were on a business trip and got too drunk with a client. We accidentally spent the night together.

"She is from a British aristocratic family. Reputation matters a lot to her. She will never marry me. She only wants to have the baby and raise it alone."

"So what are you saying?" I asked.

"I am the father. I have to take responsibility. I will stay in the apartment I rented for her and take care of her pregnancy on weekdays, and come home on weekends.

"Our wedding will be delayed. We will get married after the baby is borned."

I gave a small smile. So he had it all planned out. He was just here to inform me.

He let out a sigh of relief, picked up his Rimowa suitcase, and walked out without looking back.

I wiped the tears off my face and began packing away all the memories of our relationship.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. The voice on the other end sounded messy and emotional.

"Margot, I freaking love you. Don't marry him. Marry me instead."

I froze for a second, then replied, "Okay."

I finished packing my suitcase.

I placed the engagement ring and all the keepsakes from our relationship on Edward's work desk.

Our home still looked like a wedding venue—ribbons, white lilies, and napkins embossed with 'M & E Forever'.

I had always dreamed of it.

I had a crush on him for four years. We dated for eight. In just three days, we were supposed to get married.

However, he betrayed me.

Tears filled my eyes again, and I forced myself to shut them tight.

My phone buzzed as I dragged my suitcase to the front door.

It was Edward.

"I forgot my towel. Can you bring it over?" he asked.

"To Juliet's place. You know the address, right?"

I let out a bitter laugh. Of course, I did.

Every month, Edward and a few guys from finance would gather at Juliet's SoHo loft. They always called it a 'work get-together'.

He took me there a few times.

The men would slump on the couch, drinking, playing poker, and talking business, while Juliet strutted around in crop tops and tiny shorts like it was a runway.

I had told him I hated those gatherings and begged him to stop going.

He just brushed me off.

"Margot, networking is part of my job. We talk business and make connections at those parties. Come on, we're not attached at the hip just because we're dating.

"Juliet is like one of the guys. We are business partners. Even if she walked in front of me undressed, I would feel nothing."

All of it was just pretty lies to keep me quiet.

I did not reply. A few seconds later, he sent me the address anyway.

I wanted to delete his number, but my fingers went another way.

"Got it," I replied.

Something bitter rose in my chest. Maybe—I just wanted to see for myself.

I wondered how a man who could not even peel an apple could take care of a pregnant woman.

I gripped the shopping bag that held the towel and rang the doorbell.

Juliet answered quickly. As usual, she wore a tight tank top and short shorts. She smiled brightly and pulled me inside without hesitation.

Before I could say anything, she snatched the bag from my hands.

"Take a seat," she said casually.

"Edward is cooking for me. You should eat with us."

The water stopped running.

"Jules, where's the jam?" Edward's lazy, familiar voice came from the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he walked out shirtless, wearing only a pair of low-rise lounge shorts.

"Jules, can you help me with the salad?" he asked.

Juliet laughed and wiped the lipstick smudge from the corner of his mouth.

"Eddie, are you sure you're the one taking care of me? It feels like I'm taking care of you. Don't forget, I'm pregnant with your baby," Juliet said.

He clicked his tongue and made a show of looking annoyed, wrapping an arm around her waist. Then, he noticed me sitting silently in the corner.

He froze for half a second, then handed the salad bowl to me instead.

"Jules, don't take it personally," he said. "Your cooking is awful. My fiancée is like a professional chef. Cooking is her thing."

Edward called me his fiancée.

What a joke. Juliet looked more like his wife than I ever did.

In all our years together, he never once cooked for me.

I stood up and stepped away from him.

"I don't have time for this. I'm leaving."

He grabbed my wrist, his face tight, and said, "Can you stop making a scene?"

"Am I?" I gave a cold laugh.

"Edward, you got her pregnant, and you two are living together. Do you still want me to act as your fiancée?"

Juliet stepped between us, pretending to smile gently.

"Margot, I only see Edward as a brother."

She walked toward the kitchen island, casually opened a can of LaCroix, and spoke like it was no big deal.

"I've always been blunt and carefree. Don't take it personally.

"He's here to help care for the baby, that's all. We used to pass out drunk and sleep in the same bed, and nothing ever happened. This is what we call bro culture."

She tugged lightly at the hem of Edward's shirt and gave it a little shake.

"But if this makes you uncomfortable, I can live on my own. I'm not fragile like most girls.

"I don't mind at all. Once the baby is born, you two will still be husband and wife, and I'll be a beautiful accident in Edward's life."

The moment she finished, she suddenly bent over and covered her mouth.

"Ugh. I'm going to throw up."

Edward rushed to her side and grabbed a trash can. He patted her back with one hand while shooting me a sharp look over his shoulder.

His voice dropped low, but the anger in it only grew stronger.

"Margot, is this what you wanted to see? I thought we already agreed on this."

Something pressed down on my chest so hard I could barely breathe.

I stayed silent, turned away, and pulled my suitcase toward the elevator.

Just as I reached the hallway, he grabbed my wrist tight.

"We've talked through this. Juliet is just a coworker. She doesn't want a relationship. She only wants to have the baby. That's it."

He sounded calm, like when he pitched at the office—rational and controlled, the kind of voice he used to turn a crisis into a so-called manageable risk.

"She's not even asking for anything. She's handling this with grace. Can't you do the same?"

Tears burned in my eyes. I clenched my teeth.

"How can I out-argue a Wharton MBA holder and a to-be partner at Sterling & Burne Capital?"

I paused, lowered my head, and whispered, "Let's break up."

Edward froze; he did not expect this.

He let go of my wrist, frowned, and sighed.

"How about this? I'll stay with Juliet three days a week, and I'll come home to you for the other four. Is that fair?"

He sounded like he was offering terms to a fund investor—negotiating conditions while setting his bottom line.

"Margot, I've already compromised a lot. Don't push it."

I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm. My voice came out quiet but steady.

"No need. After we break up, you can stay with her every day. Stop wasting my time."

He glared at me, his expression dark, and said, "Are you sure?"

I turned my face away and pressed the elevator button.

The elevator had not even arrived when he suddenly let out a cold laugh and shoved me hard.

"Fine. That's your choice!"

Edward shoved me hard. I stumbled back and slammed into the elevator wall. Pain shot through my back, and I gasped.

He gave me a cold look, like I was useless. Then, he turned and walked back to Juliet's apartment.

Juliet stood at the door and raised her voice, saying, "Edward! How can you talk to your fiancée like that? Women are emotional. You should calm her down. Bro, you just blew the deal!"

Edward put his arm around her like he had done it a hundred times.

"Let her go. She'll regret it. Remember how she chased me for three years? She couldn't leave me even if she tried."

He squeezed Juliet's arm and laughed.

"You're easier to be around. Just like one of the guys."

Juliet giggled and poked his chest. "Stop it. I'm a woman. I am pregnant!"

Edward smirked and touched her chest. "This small? You sure?"

They laughed and slammed the door behind them.

Bang.

The hallway went quiet. All I could hear was my heart pounding. My whole body shook with anger.

The elevator finally came.

I pressed the close button repeatedly, trying to keep calm.

Before the doors closed, my phone rang. It was Edward's mother, Mrs. Kingsley.

"Margot, I heard about Juliet and Edward.

"I've scolded him. Please don't take this personally. All couples fight. As long as he still wants to marry you, that means he still cares.

"Juliet said she doesn't want to get in between you two. Just ignore her."

My throat felt dry, and I replied softly, "We broke up."

She replied with a different tone, "Why are you so ungrateful? Do you even know your place? We were kind enough to accept you. You should be thankful.

"Why are you being harsh to him? Is it not exhausting being this stubborn? He merely made a small mistake."

I stayed quiet for a second, then replied, "You've always looked down on me, haven't you? You've always looked down on my degree, thinking it's not good enough and that my family runs a small company. I'll never be good enough for Edward. So, now that I'm leaving, isn't that exactly what you've always wanted?"

I hung up.

The Kingsleys came from a long line of professors. Edward's dad was tenured at Columbia. His mom worked at Brookings. Most of the family had jobs at Harvard or Yale.

At every family event, someone would ask, "Margot, what school did you go to? What was your GPA?"

When I told them, the room would go quiet.

Then someone would say, "Well, that brings down our family average. You know intelligence comes from the mother's side. Imagine if our grandchild got her genes..."

Edward sat nearby, sipping wine, smiling, never saying a word.

He had heard it all. He just did not care.

He had looked down on me, too.

I remembered the first time I confessed. He scanned through me and said, "My girlfriend should at least have a 1550 SAT Score. You barely made it into college, didn't you?"

He only agreed to date me after I chased after him for three years.

I slid down the wall inside the elevator. My head was heavy. My chest was tight. I could not breathe.

After what felt like forever, the elevator started moving.

The doors opened. A tall man was standing there.

I could not see his face, but I knew he was frowning—just like he always did when I got hurt.

He gently wiped the tears off my face and pulled me into a hug.

"Margot, don't let anyone hurt you ever again."

It was Nathan.

He smelled like alcohol—he must have come straight from a business dinner. I knew he had just left a deal meeting. He probably walked out on the client and his boss to go and find me.

Nathan had always been calm and polite. However, that night, he cursed for the first time.

I tried to push him away, worried the elevator doors might close.

However, he held me tighter.

"You've already said yes on the phone. You're not allowed to take it back."