“I asked her why she’d told me you weren’t pregnant anymore, why she’d said the baby was gone.” Ethan’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “She screamed at me. Said the baby couldn’t possibly exist. That you were lying even now. That you were trying to ruin her wedding day because you couldn’t stand to see me happy.”
“And then?” I prompted, needing to hear the rest.
“She fainted. Right there in our apartment. Just collapsed onto the floor.”
I stared at him, unable to process the absurdity of what I was hearing. It sounded like something from a dramatic television show, not real life.
“What did you do?” I asked.
Ethan met my eyes directly. “I left her there on the floor. Grabbed my keys and drove straight here to the hospital.”
“You left your fiancée unconscious on the floor to come here?”
“I called emergency services from the car,” he said quickly, as if that justified it. “Made sure someone was coming to help her. But I had to see—I had to know if—”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. We both knew what he was trying to say.
When the Other Woman Arrived
That’s when the door opened again, and a woman I’d never met in person but had seen plenty of photographs of on social media stormed into my hospital room like she owned the place.
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