The next morning I packed up and headed to the dessert shop for my last shift.
I was at the front counter washing fruit when a familiar voice floated through the door：“You were five seconds late squeezing toothpaste for me this morning. Your punishment is taking me somewhere I don't even like.”
Willow hung off Isaac's arm with one hand and jabbed the other toward the menu board, her tone dripping entitlement：“One matcha crêpe cake. Extra sugar. Lots of it.”
Isaac didn't notice me until he pulled out his phone to pay：“Nancy, isn't today your day off?”
I said nothing. Turned around, brought out the matcha crêpe cake.
One thought kept circling：he didn't even like dessert.
The day I met Isaac, he'd been sitting alone by the window with more than a dozen plates of sweets spread in front of him.
Out of nowhere he'd said：“Dessert cures a bad mood, right?”
Back then he'd left home to make something of himself. Every night after work he'd come in and order one matcha crêpe cake, extra sugar.
I only learned later that they'd broken up that same day. The reason：after college Isaac had done nothing with himself, just stayed home living off his family.
So he'd walked out. Built a company from scratch. All of it, every bit of the effort, just to prove to Willow that he could stand beside her as an equal.
Behind our so-called chance meeting was a love story that had always belonged to him and Willow.
Fine, then. I would cut the thread myself, this bond I'd held like something precious.
I handed him the cake, looked into the face I knew by heart, and said slowly：“Isaac. I'm breaking up with you. This time I mean it.”
The plate slipped from his hands, the crêpe cake smashing into a mess on the floor. He pulled out a few napkins, wiped his fingers clean, then let out a short, ugly laugh：“Nancy, don't push your luck. You're the one who wanted to be together. You volunteered to take care of me. And now you want to break up? Not a chance.”
So that was what it felt like, hearing those words from his mouth.
I couldn't stop shaking. My fingers trembled as I pulled the medical report from my pocket, and it took everything I had to speak：“I'm pregnant. But the baby could miscarry.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't look at him.
He laughed. The mockery hit me without a shred of restraint：“You'd really pull any stunt to get attention, wouldn't you.”
Willow folded her arms, satisfaction all over her face：“Miss Henson, AI is so advanced these days. Fakes can look perfectly real.”
His eyes were bloodshot, locked on me.
One glance at the report and he'd see the hospital was one of his family's own.
I pulled the medication from my pocket, my voice shaking：“I'm not lying. These are prenatal pills.”
The fury in Isaac's eyes erupted：“You think I don't know you've been taking birth control this whole time?”
He snatched the bottle out of my hand and dumped every last pill onto the floor：“You like swallowing pills so much? Then get on your knees and lick them up.”
I didn't have the luxury of caring about his humiliation. I dropped to all fours and gathered the pills off the ground like a dog. Each pill was two days of my life, three days' wages.
Willow clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she doubled over“Isaac, doesn't she remind you of those cartoon dogs we watched as kids? Head down, tail wagging, begging for scraps.”
A sudden roar filled my ears. Every sound around me dropped away. My vision blurred, and something warm ran down between my legs.
I reached up and caught the edge of Isaac's sleeve：“Please take me to the hospital. The baby's in danger.”
Isaac stared down at the mess I'd become. Something flickered in his eyes, just for a second.
Willow's face changed instantly. She cut in, voice sharp：“Miss Henson really came prepared — she even brought her own blood bag.”
Whatever pity was left in his eyes vanished completely. He took Willow's arm and walked out without looking back.
In the last moment before everything went dark, all I saw was Isaac's blurred silhouette moving away, and tears slid down my face without a sound.
