Adeline's POV

I devoted six years of my life to the only man I had ever loved, my ex-boyfriend, Chris Blackwood.

The diamond ring sparkled under the auditorium lights as Chris dropped to one knee in front of over five hundred people.

My heart stopped after six years together, he was finally proposing.

Then he turned away from me and faced Caroline.

"Caroline Hayes, will you marry me?"

The world shattered.

I stood three feet away, my graduation cap still in my hands, watching my boyfriend of six years propose to my best friend.

"YES!" Caroline screamed, throwing her arms around his neck.

The crowd erupted in applause like they were watching a romantic movie instead of my complete destruction.

I couldn't move or process what I was seeing.

"Wait." My voice came out broken. "Chris, what are you..."

He stood up with Caroline's hand in his, the ring glittering on her finger, and finally looked at me.

"Sorry, Adeline. You weren't supposed to see this yet. We were going to tell you after graduation."

"Tell me what?" Tears streamed down my face. "That you've been cheating on me? That everything was a lie?"

"Cheating?" Caroline laughed, actually laughed. "Oh sweetie, you can't cheat on someone you were never really with."

The crowd had gone silent now, everyone watching like this was better than the actual graduation ceremony.

"What are you talking about? We've been together for six years!"

"No." Chris stepped closer, his voice cold. "I've been using you for six years. There's a difference."

The words hit like a physical blow.

"Using me?"

"You had three jobs, Adeline. I had tuition to pay. Caroline and I needed someone to fund our education." He shrugged like it was obvious. "You were convenient."

My knees went weak. "You're lying."

"Am I?" Caroline pulled out her phone. "Want to see the photos? We've been together for three years. Every night you worked double shifts so Chris could 'study', he was in my bed."

She turned the screen toward me. Photo after photo. Chris and Caroline kissing on dates, in bed together. Time-stamped over three years.

"No." I shook my head. "You told me you loved me. You said after graduation we'd-"

"I said whatever I needed to say to keep you working." Chris's voice was brutal. "You were so desperate for love after your parents died that you'd believe anything. It was pathetic how easy you made it."

Someone in the crowd gasped.

"Don't bring my parents into this-"

"Why not? They're the reason you're so broken." Caroline stepped closer, her voice venomous. "Your parents died in that car crash trying to get away from you, didn't they? Taking a vacation to escape their disappointing daughter even your parents couldn't stand being around you."

The auditorium went dead silent.

"That's not true," I whispered, but my voice had no strength.

"Tell me, Adeline." Caroline's smile was cruel. "When was the last time anyone chose you? Your parents left. Your boyfriend used you. Your best friend betrayed you." She tilted her head. "Maybe the problem isn't us. Maybe the problem is you're fundamentally unlovable."

"That's enough." An older woman pushed through the crowd. "You've made your point."

"Have I?" Caroline looked at me. "Because I don't think Adeline understands yet that she's nothing. She's always been nothing. A charity case who worked dead-end jobs with zero future. Without us, she'd still be completely alone with nothing to live for."

"I gave you everything." My voice cracked. "I skipped meals so Chris could eat. I donated blood for money so you could buy textbooks. I worked myself to exhaustion..."

"And Chris used that blood money to take me to dinner at that Italian place you always wanted to try." Caroline's smile was vicious. "The pasta was delicious, by the way."

The crowd gasped again. Then someone laughed.

Then everyone was laughing.

"You're monsters." Tears poured down my face.

"We're realists." Chris put his arm around Caroline. "You should be thanking us, actually. We gave you purpose for six years because without us, you'd have had nothing to work for."

"I hate you." The words tore from my throat. "I hate both of you so much"

Before I could process anything, Caroline's hand cracked across my face. The slap echoed through the silent auditorium.

My cheek burned from the slap and I tasted blood where my teeth had cut my lip.

"You don't get to hate us." Caroline's voice was ice. "You don't get to feel anything except grateful. We gave you six years of thinking you mattered. That's more than you deserved."

She grabbed the microphone from the podium.

"Everyone, can I have your attention?" Her voice carried across the auditorium. "I just want to publicly thank Adeline Monroe for sponsoring mine and Chris's education these past six years. Without her working three jobs and donating blood for money, we wouldn't be standing here today as graduates and an engaged couple."

The crowd's laughter was deafening.

"So thank you, Adeline." Caroline's smile was radiant. "For being exactly as stupid and desperate as we needed you to be."

She handed the microphone back and turned away like I didn't exist anymore.

I stood there in front of five hundred people who'd watched my destruction like entertainment.

My phone buzzed.

Caroline: Your stuff is outside the apartment. We're changing the locks. Don't come back. And thanks for paying for the ring. It's exactly what I wanted.

Another text from the loan shark: You have only two weeks to pay your debt or you won't like what will happen to you.

Something inside me broke completely. I had borrowed money to sponsor these people. Now what did they repay me with? Betrayal.

I turned and ran, pushed through the crowd while they laughed and took videos on their phones.

I burst through the auditorium doors into the freezing night. I kept running until I couldn't breathe anymore. Until I collapsed against a brick wall in an alley, sobbing so hard I thought I'd break apart.

My parents were dead, Chris had used me for six years and Caroline had betrayed me.

And five hundred people had watched it happen and laughed. I had nothing, no one and nowhere to go.

I pulled out my phone to call someone, anyone, then realized I had no one to call.

Caroline had been my only friend. Chris had been my only family after my parents died.

I was completely alone. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't care.

My feet carried me through unfamiliar streets until a flickering neon sign caught my attention. 

BAR &LODGE.

I stared at it for a moment before pushing through the door and the smell of alcohol hit me immediately.

People laughed, music played and glass clinked. The world kept moving as if mine hadn't ended. I slid onto a stool at the bar.

"What can I get you?" one of the bartenders asked.

"Whiskey." He poured a glass which I emptied in one shallow.

The burn in my throat felt better than the ache in my chest.  One became three, three became five. The bartender ended up leaving four bottles on the table.

I noticed a guy not sitting far from me with five bottles of beer in front of him. He's on his sixth, and he's dead drunk already, but he's still pouring the beer down his throat, drowning himself in the intoxication.

The two bartenders were strong at him like he's some kind of movie as they shake their heads.

"Is it some kind of heartbreak? What could make a guy drink painfully like this?" One of them said.

"Look at that one too" the second one said while pointing his fingers at me.

"What the hell is wrong with them?" The bartender muttered, shaking his head.

"If they still order more after this, we can't sell it to them, they will die at this rate," the second one said.

I suddenly stood from my seat when I felt the need to pee, but I fell back on my seat immediately.

"Oh I feel so... so heavy...hmmm!" I moaned drunkenly, resting my palms on the table before trying to stand again. 

"I want to pee. Where's ...the...pee room?" I asked while holding the table for support.

"You mean restroom? Oh... that way" one of them pointed, and I waved at them drunkenly before going in the direction.

 The hallway seemed longer than it had a few minutes ago, or maybe that was the alcohol.

I bounced off the wall before finally finding the restroom. "Found you," I muttered proudly.

I pushed the door and stumbled in. The bright lights made me squint. Gripping the sink, I stared at my reflection.

My mascara was ruined, my eyes were red and my cheek was still swollen from Caroline's slap.

I looked pathetic and a broken laugh escaped my lips. "What a day." 

The door suddenly opened behind me and I frowned. Then another reflection appeared in the mirror. A man.

I was the same from the bar. The one who'd been trying to drink himself unconscious. For a second, we simply stared at each other.

His gaze shifted to the sign on the door and a curse slipped from his lips. "Wrong restroom."

For some reason, I laughed. A real laugh and his eyes returned to mine. For a moment, neither of us looked away. 

Just as he turned toward the door, something in me snapped. Maybe it was the alcohol, or it was hallucination. Or the realization that I had nobody left waiting for me.

"Wait." I said and he stopped to look at me. Our eyes met through the mirror. 

Neither of us spoke or ask questions. We were just two strangers carrying wounds too heavy to bear alone. 

Without myself the time to think, I crossed the distance between us. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes. Then I grabbed the front of his shirt, and kissed him.

His eyes widened slightly, and he froze in surprise. Then his hands slid around my waist and the kiss deepened.

For the first time that night, I wasn't thinking about Chris or Caroline. I wasn't thinking about the debt hanging over my head or the life that had fallen apart in a single evening.

I wasn't thinking at all. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.Neither of us asked for a name or wanted an explanation.

Tonight wasn't about tomorrow and it wasn't about consequences. But It was about forgetting.

His fingers intertwined with mine and he led me toward the door, I followed without hesitation.

Without knowing it, that single decision was about to change my life forever.

Adeline's POV

It's been one month since the worst night of my life... and the biggest mistake I ever made.

I woke up at 4:30 a.m. in the tiny motel room I'd been living in for the past one month.  

The place wasn't much...a narrow bed, a leaking faucet, and walls so thin I could hear my neighbors arguing every night, but it was all I could afford.

Every paycheck from the diner went toward keeping a roof over my head. It wasn't a home. It was a place to sleep.

And right now, it was the only thing standing between me and the streets.

My alarm wouldn't go off for another thirty minutes, but my stomach had other plans. 

I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up again. This was the seventh morning in a row. 

I knelt on the dirty tile floor, dry heaving into the toilet, and tried to tell myself it was food poisoning or probably stress. 

But my period was four weeks late and my breasts were hurting so badly I couldn't wear a bra. 

I was exhausted all the time despite sleeping ten hours a night and I was throwing up every single morning. 

I wiped my mouth with a shaky hand and stared at my reflection in the cracked mirror. "No," I whispered. "Please, God, no." But I already knew, I'd just been too terrified to admit it.

I called in sick to work for the third time this week. My manager was going to fire me soon because I could hear it in his voice when he said fine.

I threw on clothes that were starting to feel tight around my stomach and walked three blocks to the pharmacy. It was six AM. The store had just opened and I was the only customer there.

The pregnancy tests were behind the counter so I had to ask the pharmacist for them. She looked at me with pity as she scanned them like she knew exactly what my situation was.

"Good luck, honey," she said as she handed me the bag. I didn't respond. I just paid and left.

Back in my motel room, I locked myself in the bathroom and opened the first test with a shaking hand. I read the instructions five times because I couldn't focus. 

Then I peed on the stick and set it on the sink. "Wait for three minutes," the instructions said.

I counted every second. One hundred and eighty seconds felt like hours. 

When I finally looked at the test, two pink lines stared back at me.

Positive.

"No." My voice cracked. "No, no, no. That's wrong. It has to be wrong." 

I ripped open the second test and peed on it with shaking hands then I waited another three minutes that felt like eternity.

It was the same two pink lines. Positive.

"Please," I whispered to no one. "Please let this be a mistake. Please." 

I picked the two tests and put them at the edge of the sink. I was pregnant with a stranger's baby, a stranger whose name I didn't know, whose face I could barely remember. 

I slid down the bathroom walls, staring at those three tests. Just one night's mistake and now my entire life is over. I don't have much in my account and I worked at a diner that was about to fire me.

I had no family, no friends and no Insurance or support. It was just me and a baby I couldn't afford and never planned for, a baby whose father I could never find even if I wanted to. 

I started laughing but it came out broken and hysterical then the laughter turned to sobs that tore from my chest. 

I sat on that dirty bathroom floor and cried until I thought I'd break apart. 

When I finally stopped, my throat was raw and my eyes were swollen. I looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror.

"What am I going to do?" I whispered.

My reflection stared back with no answers. Just a terrified girl who'd made too many mistakes. 

I pressed my hand to my still-flat stomach. "I don't know what I'm doing," I whispered. "I don't know how to be a mother. I don't know how to survive this."

The baby couldn't hear me yet but I made a promise anyway. "But I'll figure it out. I'll find a way and I won't give up." Tears streamed down my face. "You are mine and I'm going to keep you safe even if it kills me."

I had to make a decision before it was too late so I grabbed my phone and searched for the bar. The Kings Bar and Hotel. I had to find him.

I took the subway to where the bar was located. "How can I help you?" The bartender asked me. 

"I need to find someone. A man who was here a month ago. He is tall, has dark hair and grey eyes."

"I'm sorry but we can't give out guest information."

"Please. It's important."

"What's going on?" A bartender appeared, the same one from that night. "You were here a month ago."

"Yes! Do you remember the man I left with?"

Pity crossed his face. "That was his first time here. He paid cash, no name. I've never seen him before or since."

My stomach dropped."He has to come back..."

"Leave your number. If he shows up, I'll call you."

"I wrote my number on a receipt with shaky hands. "Please. Tell him I need to talk to him. It's urgent."

I left the hotel with tears streaming down my face. He was gone and I was alone with a baby I couldn't afford.

Life didn't wait for me to recover. It kept moving and so did I. One shift at a time, one exhausted morning after another. 

There were nights I cried myself to sleep in that same motel room, telling myself I would figure it out. And mornings where I still had to get up anyway. And somehow...I made it.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

I was nine months pregnant, working double shift when my phone rang. It was an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Is this Adeline Monroe? This is the bartender." The voice replied.

"My heart stopped. "Yes. Did you find him?"

"He's here right now."

"I'm coming. Please don't let him leave!"

I rolled off my apron and took the subway to Manhattan where the bar was located , with my pregnant belly making everything difficult. I will be due any time soon but all I care about is the stranger.

By the time I reached the bar, I was out of breath but I didn't care because he was there.

I walked into the bar and there he was in the same spot looking richer and more handsome than I remembered. 

I walked towards him on shaking legs. He looked up, his eyes traveling to my pregnant belly, then back to my face. 

"You." My voice cracked. "I've been looking for you for eight months."

Who are you?" My breath caught the moment I heard those words. 

"What?" I blinked at him. "You don't remember me?"

He leaned back slightly, studying me like I was a stranger. "Should I?"

My world tilted.

"We spent a night together," I said quickly. "Eight months ago. You were at this hotel. We were both drunk..."

He raised a hand. "Ah." He exhaled. "That night."

Relief hit me so hard my knees almost weakened.

"Yes. That night." My voice cracked. "I've been looking for you. I need to talk to you. I'm pregnant."

Silence. Then he laughed. Not warm or shocked but cold. 

"What?" I whispered.

He picked up his glass again and took a slow sip.

"You're telling me you came all this way to say I got you pregnant from a one-night stand?"

"It's not just that," I said quickly. "I know it's yours. I've never been with anyone else."

His expression darkened slightly."That's what they all say."

Rage and panic twisted inside me. "I'm not lying."

He leaned forward now, voice lower. "Women like you always show up with this story," he said. "Looking for money. Looking for a payout."

My stomach dropped. "I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?" 

"I want you to know you're going to be a father," I said, tears rising. "Take responsibility."

He stood slowly and suddenly, he was towering over me.

"We didn't create anything," he said coldly. "You got drunk. You threw yourself at me. And now you're trying to trap me with a baby that's probably not even mine."

"I didn't throw myself at you."

"You saw a drunk man and decided what you wanted from him."

"That's not what happened..."

"You're lying," he cut in sharply. "And I don't deal with women who turn one mistake into a lifetime demand."

The words hit like a slap.

"I'm not lying to you," I whispered. "I'm asking for a paternity test. That's it. We can go to any hospital you choose."

"Take pity on me, I...I..."

He closed his laptop, interrupting my speech as he faced me.

"You can't leave" I quickly said while blocking his way.

"I've listened enough," he interrupted. "And I don't deal with emotional stories or assumptions."

Tears burned my eyes.

"I'm not asking you for money," I said again, desperate now. "I just need you to take responsibility."

That word made his jaw tighten. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a thick bundle of cash which he  dropped onto the table between us.

My breath caught as I stared at the money.

"I don't believe you," he said flatly. "But I also don't care enough to argue about it."

"I don't want your money." I said staring at it 

"Then don't take it," he replied.

Silence stretched.

He picked up his laptop like this was already over.

Then paused at the door.

Without looking back, he said:

"Listen carefully."

My heart pounded.

"If you're lying, don't ever come near me again."

I swallowed hard. "And if I'm not?" I asked, voice breaking.

That made him stop for a second. He turned his head slightly.

"If you have that child," he said coldly, "bring it back in one year. I will be waiting here."

My breath hitched at what he said.

"I'll take responsibility then," he continued. "But only then."

My chest tightened painfully. "So you're just going to walk away?" I whispered.

The door closed behind him. And the silence that followed felt louder than everything he had said.

I stood there frozen, his words still ringing in my ears.

One year.

As if the next twelve months of my life meant nothing.

My hands slowly moved to my stomach. But suddenly... everything inside me twisted.

A sharp pain ripped through my lower abdomen and I gasped.

"No... no, no..."

I grabbed the counter for support as the pain came again, stronger this time.

My legs shook as something warm spread down my thighs.

My breath hitched.

"I think..." I choked. "The baby... it's coming."

The bartenders rushed toward me.

"Call an ambulance!" he shouted.

But I was already collapsing. The world blurred, voices echoing around me as I slid down to the floor, one thought burning through the pain...

He was gone.

And I was alone.

Adeline's POV

One year Later,

"Happy birthday, baby"

I placed a single candle into the small cupcake sitting on the table and smiled at Oliver. My son clapped his tiny hands together, laughing as the flame flickered.

I wished I could freeze this moment forever.Just me and him with no worries, no bills and no fear. But reality waited on the other side of the apartment door. 

Three overdue rent notices sat on the counter. The electricity bill was due tomorrow and my refrigerator contained half a carton of milk, some eggs, and nothing else. 

The money Damien had thrown at me a year ago had helped me escape the motel and rent this tiny apartment, but it hadn't lasted forever.

For twelve months, I'd worked every job I could find. Waitressing, cleaning offices, babysitting. Name it all.

But still, it was never enough. I looked at Oliver and felt my chest tighten. I had promised him I would figure it out. Instead, I was failing.

A knock sounded at the door but I already knew who it was. My landlord.

"Ms. Monroe," he said when I opened it. "You have until Friday."

"Please, give me one more week."

"I've already given you three."

When he left, I closed the door and slid to the floor. Oliver crawled over immediately and climbed into my lap. My sweet boy, my entire world.

And suddenly, I remembered Damien's words. "Bring the baby back in one year."

I had spent twelve months convincing myself I would never do it. Now I wasn't so sure.

I barely slept that night. The next morning, I packed Oliver's diaper bag with shaking hands.

Every instinct inside me screamed not to go. But what kind of mother was I if I couldn't even give my child a stable home?

By 8:45 a.m, I was already standing outside the King's Bar and Hotel. 

Oliver rested against my chest and my heart felt like it was breaking apart. "You deserve better than me." I whispered.

I looked at the bar and tears almost came out of my eyes when I remembered I actually gave birth in here. Oliver's little hand touched my face, and I smiled as I looked at him.

Even at such such a young age, it's so clear who his father is. He's Damien's copy.

He smiled cutely, his one teeth looking funny in his gum. I kissed his cheeks, and he chuckled cutely, raising his hands in the air innocently as I entered the bar. 

Just like like year, Damien is sitting on that same seat, but right now he's looking richer and more handsome, wearing expensive brands, but his cold face is still same.

The bartenders were smiling at me from the stand, and I smiled sadky before walking to Damien.

I knocked his table before he looked up, and for the first time I'd known him, Damien looked stunned when he saw little Oliver obviously be of the uncanny resemblance.

He stood up slowly, still staring at the baby. 

"Here" I said, giving Oliver to him reluctantly.

Damien took him slowly, and the boy smiled at him too. "I think it's over now." I said breaking the silence.

Damien didn't say a word to me. He called in a gy who looked like his personal assistant whom he made a gesture to. The guy packed the laptop and files on the table, then they left the bar together.

Oliver started crying, and my tears flowed as I watch Damien take him away. I squatted on my spot, and the bartenders joined me. "It's okay" they started patting me.

It might take years before I see Oliver again, or I might never even see him again. I stood when the realization hit me, and I rushed out of the bar. 

Damien was about to enter the car when I pulled him back. "Please, let me spend one more hour with Oliver before you take him." I pleaded.

"I have work to do." he replies blankly.

"Please, okay how about 30 minutes, I miss him already. Please let me just..."

"I said I have things to do. Apparently, I'm not jobless like you" he cut me off with a glare and my arms fell from him.

"You are heartless" I mutter hurtfully as tears rolled out of my eyes.

"Your gender taught me to be" he replied coldly and entered the car, driving away from me. 

"Oliverrrrrrrr" I cried out, sitting on the floor. 

The bartenders rushed out again, and when they saw me, they exchanged glances.

"I feel so sorry for her" one of the bartenders said sadly as they stared at me pitifully.

"Oliver, mommy is sorry. I muttered in tears, shaking with cold." I stood up and started walking.

I stood alone on the sidewalk, my arms empty.

And for the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like to lose everything.

EIGHT YEARS LATER

Eight years have passed since the day I handed my son over. 

Life moved on. At least that's what everyone believed. I have a job now, a small apartment, some friends, and a life.

But on May 10 of every year, I bought a cupcake and lit a candle. I made sure I wished my son a happy birthday from a distance.

"Table six is taking too much time to be served" Madam Brooke screamed from the kitchen taking me out of my thoughts.

"It's almost ready!" I replied from the kitchen.

Two minutes later, I came out of the kitchen with the tray of food for that particular table, smiling as I walked there to serve. My hair is in a bun, and the blue apron looks like it was made for me. I caught my reflection in the stainless steel counter, same clear skin, same familiar face. Eight years had passed, but time hadn't settled on me.

"You forgot to add wine," the woman on the table said.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, will be right back" I apologized and rushed back to the cellar to get it.

It hasn't been easy even after becoming a graduate, I still wasn't able to get myself a good job that pays since then, so I had to settle for what I found here.

Tasty restaurant is one of the best around, and they get patronized well, so Madam Brooke pays all the servers well.

I got the wine and took it back to the table, then I returned to the kitchen but Madam Brooke blocked me. "You should rest now. Rest for five minutes before joining the others" she said and I smiled.

I laughed softly. "Yes, ma'am."

My phone buzzed in my apron pocket. The smile on my face disappeared the moment I saw the caller ID.

Ethan. My husband.

I stared at the screen for several seconds before answering.

"What?" I asked quietly.

"Where are you?" His cold voice came through immediately.

"Work." I replied.

"You're late."

"My shift doesn't end for another hour."

"I don't care. Get home." The line went dead after he said that. 

I slowly lowered the phone. Eight years ago, I thought losing Oliver was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

I was wrong. Because eight years later, I was still surviving, still enduring and still trapped.

And tonight, I had to go home to the man I regretted marrying.