Sophie's POV
I looked straight at Connor.
He didn't stop them, nor did he seem to think there was anything wrong with his friends insulting his fiancée like that.
To him, this was nothing new. He was used to it.
Honestly, so was I.
It wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
There was a time when I believed that letting them laugh at me, allowing them to poke fun, was the quickest way to fit into his world. I thought that if I could smile and endure it, I would earn my place beside him.
But eventually, I realized that some circles aren't meant to be forced open.
No one ever intended to make room for me.
"Connor, what do you think?" I tilted my head and looked him right in the eye, calm and steady.
He didn't even hesitate.
"We're all just out having fun," Connor said, already annoyed. "Nobody meant anything by it. Don't kill the mood, okay? Haven't we always joked around like this?"
He sounded tired, as if I were the problem again, and like I was causing a scene over nothing.
Once more, I was the one being 'unreasonable.'
I stood up.
Without saying a word, I picked up my wine glass and poured it right over his chest. Then I set the empty glass firmly in the middle of the table with a sharp clink.
The whole room fell into a stunned silence.
Everyone froze, including Connor.
I didn't look back. I just turned and walked out of the room.
He came after me quickly, catching my wrist just outside the door.
"What the hell are you doing? It was just a joke!" he snapped. "Do you really have to kill the mood like that?"
I yanked my hand out of his grip.
"Connor, the wedding next month? Cancel it. I don't want to marry you anymore."
Connor then laughed sharply and disbelievingly, as if I'd just told the punchline of a joke nobody else understood.
"You? Look at you. You're five months pregnant. Who else would even want you but me?"
I gave a faint smile and kept walking.
But he wasn't finished as he caught up again, stepping in front of me on the sidewalk.
"Sophie, come on. Don't be dramatic. I'm tired too, okay? I'm willing to let the past go, and I'm still keeping my promise. The wedding's happening, just like I said. You just need to calm down."
I'm willing to let the past go.
This man, standing right in front of me, didn't hold a single piece of my heart anymore.
Then Connor pulled me into his arms and pressed my head against his chest like he always used to.
"Sophie, I promised Gretchen I'd take her to Bali one last time before the wedding," he said, still coaxing me. "That's all, just a final goodbye. When I get back, we'll go through everything. Think of it as closure. You just stay home and rest. Don't worry about tonight. You don't need to feel bad, and you definitely don't have to say sorry."
I listened to the steady beat of his heart.
And I wondered if it had ever truly beat for me?
How many people had he made space for in that heart of his?
I didn't answer.
Connor must have mistaken my silence for agreement, because he gently patted my head like I was some obedient little pet, then turned and jogged back into the building.
I watched him disappear through the doorway.
There was a faint tug at the corners of my lips—a smile, bitter and brief.
Bali...
That was the place I had picked for our honeymoon, and now he's giving it to her.
And so, I went home and started packing.
None of the clothes Connor bought for me arrived. Each piece reflected Gretchen—her taste and her style.
In all our years together, he had never asked me what I liked and never cared about what I didn't.
I had spent a decade loving him through someone else's eyes and only packed a few belongings that were mine. Then, I put everything I had left after ten years into the small suitcase, which was enough to hold it all.
Before I left the apartment, I took one last look around at the place I had called home for a decade. Everything I once cherished—the furniture, the walls, the sweet memories—all faded into a silence that grew heavier over time.
Then, without hesitation, I walked out the door.
By the time I was lying on the operating table, Connor's phone was already turned off. While anesthesia quietly spread through my veins, Connor and Gretchen were boarding their flight to Bali, leaving everything behind without so much as a backward glance.
As the cold instruments entered my body, a sharp pain gripped my chest. It wasn't just physical. My whole body ached, but it was my heart that hurt the most.
With my eyes growing heavier, I made one final vow in my mind.
'Connor, I'll carry this pain with me for the rest of my life.'
In those last seconds before everything went dark, I focused all my strength on one thing—trying to feel the final flickers of the tiny life still inside me. It felt faint, like a dream slipping through my fingers.
And when I woke up, it was gone.
All that remained was a cold, quiet night that felt endless, heavy with the silence of something lost forever.
I slowly reached out and pressed a hand to my belly.
There was no life left inside me.
Still groggy, I reached for my phone and unlocked the screen without thinking.
And the first thing I saw was a brand-new post from Gretchen's social feed.
It was a photo of Gretchen and Connor, wrapped in each other's arms, somewhere in Bali. They looked happy. Carefree. Like nothing had ever happened.
Almost a month passed while I recovered in the hospital. The days blurred together, quiet and sterile, until suddenly my phone lit up with messages from my agent, from Connor, and from people who hadn't checked in once during the worst of it.
Every message buzzed like life was continuing as usual, like nothing had been lost.
[Sophie, how did you do it? You paid off the three-million-dollar breach-of-contract fee so fast!]
[Sophie, I'm almost back in the country. How's the wedding prep going? Did you pick out your dress?]
