I was six months pregnant when my boyfriend, Angelo Greer, agreed to accompany me back to my hometown to celebrate the New Year.

But just as we entered the highway, his phone rang.

On the other end, his assistant’s voice sounded flustered.

"Mr. Greer, my mother said that if I don’t bring a boyfriend home for the New Year this time, she’ll set me up on a blind date. Can you come back and pretend to be my boyfriend… just for a while?"

Angelo slammed on the brakes, his expression suddenly tense.

"Get out of the car. I need to go back and help Dora."

Hearing this, anger surged through me.

"You’re seriously leaving me, a pregnant woman, stranded on the highway because of that?" I demanded, my voice shaking.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"

But Angelo frowned, a flicker of impatience flashing across his face. Without a word, he stepped out of the car, walked to my side, and yanked the door open. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out.

"There are plenty of cars passing by. Just flag one down," he said coldly. "Dora has no one else. I have to help her."

With that, he left me standing on the side of the highway as he drove off.

Despair washed over me as I stared at his retreating car. Heartbroken, I made a decision. I turned and walked back along the shoulder of the highway, tears blurring my vision, and called the hospital to schedule an induced abortion.

When the doctor heard my request, there was a moment of silence, followed by surprise in her voice.

"Are you sure? Inducing labor at this stage will be very harmful to your body. Just last week, you seemed so excited about the baby during your prenatal check-up."

I forced my voice to remain calm.

"The child’s father is dead."

The doctor paused, her tone softening.

"I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ll schedule the procedure for tomorrow afternoon. Please come to the hospital in the morning for preparations."

"Thank you," I replied quietly before ending the call.

The blaring of horns snapped me back to my surroundings. Cars rushed past me, their drivers glaring as I walked close to the edge of the highway.

Just then, Angelo called. For a moment, I thought he had realized how cruel he had been. But his commanding tone quickly shattered that illusion.

"Where are you? Bring your diamond ring to Dora. She needs it. The stores have nothing suitable, and yours will do perfectly."

I let out a bitter laugh, my voice laced with sarcasm.

"Did you forget? You left me stranded on the highway."

He hesitated for a second before snapping impatiently, "The highway’s full of cars. You could’ve just paid someone to deliver it. Stop making excuses. Don’t forget I bought that diamond ring. Now hurry up and bring it over. Don’t waste time."

I stood there, stunned. How many times had Angelo borrowed something from me for Dora Pearson?

At first, it was small things—a dress for a party, earrings to match her outfit. Embarrassed to say no, I had let him take them. But over time, their demands grew bolder.

Once, they even tried to borrow the planning proposal I had spent weeks perfecting. When I refused, Angelo accused me of being petty.

"Dora’s just starting out," he said. "She’s not as capable as you. Can’t you share your resources? It’s not a big deal."

He’d taken credit for my work and handed it to Dora, even throwing a grand celebration for her achievements.

And now, they wanted to take my fiancé and the diamond ring he had given me when he proposed.

Dora never returned anything she borrowed. I doubted she’d return these either.

Before I could respond, I heard Dora’s soft, disappointed voice in the background.

"Mr. Greer, if my sister doesn’t want to lend it to me, it’s fine. I can do without the ring."

Angelo’s impatience melted away instantly. Completely ignoring the fact that I was still in the line, he began speaking to her in a gentle, comforting tone.

"After Sherry Ritter became pregnant, her body swelled significantly, and her hands became as puffy as pig trotters. It was nearly impossible to fit the diamond ring on her fingers, and when she did, it looked awkward and unflattering.

“It’s perfect for you, Dora. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get it,” Angelo said reassuringly.

Hearing his words, I felt my blood boil. My voice trembled as I forced myself to speak.

"Angelo, isn’t the child I’m carrying yours?"

He ignored my question entirely, instead demanding, “How long will it take you to get here?”

I couldn’t bear to argue anymore and hung up the phone. Moments later, it buzzed again—a text from him.

[You’d better show up within half an hour, or you’ll have to go home alone to celebrate the New Year. Imagine going back with a big belly—your parents will be furious!]

Though I had resolved to go through with inducing labor, his message cut deep, and tears streamed down my face. I clutched my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, crouching on the side of the highway as sorrow consumed me. Unable to hold back any longer, I sobbed uncontrollably.

At some point, someone must have called the police. A patrol car pulled up, and a young officer stepped out. Gently, he helped me into the car and drove me home.

When I entered, the house was pitch dark. I curled up on the bed, exhaustion finally overtaking me as I fell into a restless sleep. But it wasn’t long before I was jolted awake—dragged forcefully to the floor.

My eyes snapped open, meeting Angelo’s furious gaze.

“Where were you yesterday?” he roared. “Dora and I waited at the office for hours, and you never showed up! She didn’t have the diamond ring on her hand, and her relatives laughed at her all night!”

His voice rose with anger. “How dare you sleep peacefully here?”

He flung me to the ground, and my stomach hit the edge of the bed with a sharp thud. Pain radiated through my body, and cold sweat instantly drenched my forehead.

For a fleeting moment, guilt flickered in Angelo’s eyes, and he hesitated as if to help me. But when I instinctively recoiled, shrinking away, his expression darkened.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he barked. “Just because I asked you for the diamond ring, now you don’t want me near you? Don’t forget—the child is mine, and that diamond ring was bought with my money!”

Seeing my pale face and obvious pain, Angelo took a deep breath, as if forcing himself to be patient.

“Dora is young. She can’t handle the pressure of marriage, so I stepped in to help her. You’re older and still acting like a child,” he added, his tone bordering on condescension.

I clenched my fists, suppressing the urge to retort, but before I could speak, Dora burst through the door. Her gaze landed on me sprawled on the floor, and though a flicker of triumph flashed in her eyes, she hurried forward with feigned concern.

“Angelo, no matter how upset you are, you shouldn’t let my sister sit on the floor. She’s still pregnant,” Dora said softly.

Angelo stopped her with a wave of his hand.

“You’re too kind, Dora. After what she did last night, you’re still thinking about her feelings?” He turned back to me, his tone hardening. “I have to take Dora home this afternoon, so hurry up and give her the diamond ring.”

He paused, adding with mock generosity, “If you behave, I’ll take you back to your parents in two days.”

He clearly believed I couldn’t make the trip alone and was using it to manipulate me. Yet, I couldn’t forget how he’d begged me to keep the baby just a few months ago.

“Sherry, please keep the child,” he’d pleaded back then. “I’ll come to your family during the New Year to propose.”

Blinded by his sweet promises, I had chosen to keep the pregnancy. But in just six months, everything had changed.

Now, seeing that I hadn’t moved, Angelo’s patience snapped. He crouched down, grabbed my hand, and yanked it roughly.

I had gained a lot of weight during my pregnancy, and the diamond ring now fits tightly on my swollen middle finger, leaving an indent in the flesh.

Angelo glanced at it, a flicker of disdain crossing his eyes as his lips curled in contempt.

"You’ve gotten as fat as a pig, and you don’t even try to lose weight. Look at that ring—does it even look good on your hand?"

He sneered, adding, "Some women stay slim even while pregnant. But you? You’ve let yourself go—ugly and sloppy."

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed my hand and began pulling the ring off forcefully. It was snug, and his rough movements rubbed my skin raw, leaving my fingers red and sore.

With every tug, I felt my heart sink deeper into despair.

When I first got pregnant, my health was so poor that he had taken it upon himself to manage my meals, flaunting a nutritionist certificate like a badge of honor. He had seemed attentive, and caring. Now, all of that feels like a distant memory.

I lowered my gaze, my heart aching, unwilling to meet his cold eyes.

Dora’s cheerful voice broke the silence.

"Mr. Greer, what a gorgeous diamond ring! I wish I had one like that!"

Angelo chuckled, his tone affectionate.

"If you like it, I’ll get you an even better one next time," he said with a laugh.

Dora hesitated, feigning guilt.

"But if I take it, won’t my sister be upset?"

He dismissed her concern with a shrug.

"Her hands are swollen like pig’s trotters. Wearing a diamond ring is just a waste on her."

They left together, their voices fading as they moved further away, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence.

I sighed, the weight of my scheduled abortion heavy on my mind, and pulled out my phone to call a taxi. As I opened the app, an update from the local newsfeed appeared on the homepage. My hand slipped, and I accidentally clicked on it.

[Bringing my fiancé home for the New Year!]

The attached photo showed Dora sitting in the passenger seat, her right hand held up to display the diamond ring prominently on her finger. The interior of the car was unmistakable—it was Angelo’s most expensive one.

My breath caught, but I forced myself to give the post a thumbs-up. Seconds later, tears blurred the screen. I quickly wiped them away, switched back to the taxi app, and booked a ride to the hospital.

On the way there, my phone rang. Angelo’s angry voice blared through the speaker as soon as I answered.

"I already told you, I’m just pretending with Dora! Why are you being so petty?"

Before I could respond, Dora’s voice broke in, trembling with faux regret.

"Sister, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have posted that. I just wanted to convince my parents. Please don’t be mad. I’ll delete it right away."

Angelo cut her off impatiently.

"There’s no need to delete it. She’s always making a fuss over nothing. Just ignore her."

The line went dead before I could utter a single word.

The taxi driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his expression curious and puzzled. After a moment of silence, he finally asked, “What’s going on, miss?”

I forced a weak smile and replied, "My fiancé is pretending to be his assistant’s boyfriend so he can go home with her for the New Year."

The driver blinked in disbelief before stammering, "Girl… this, this…" He sighed deeply, unable to find the right words.

Even strangers could see how wrong this was, but Angelo acted as if everything he did was perfectly normal.

I lay on the cold operating table, staring at the ceiling as the anesthetic was injected into my veins. When I opened my eyes again, my stomach was deflated, hollow.

Not far away, I saw the tiny, unformed fetus resting inside a black box. Tears streamed silently down my cheeks as I reached out, taking the box from the doctor’s hands.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, I felt an emptiness consuming me.

After what felt like an eternity, I got up and left the hospital, my steps heavy and weak. Passing by radiant new parents cradling their newborns, I could only bow my head and keep walking, feeling like a ghost drifting through their joy.

When I finally returned home, Angelo was lounging on the sofa, a cigarette perched between his fingers. He didn’t even look up as I entered.