Chapter 1: Shattered Promises

The morning sunlight leaked through the dusty blinds, painting faint stripes across the hardwood floor. The city outside thrummed with the distant roar of traffic, but inside the apartment, it was all nerves and stale air. My toes curled against the cool wood as I clutched the pregnancy test, heart pounding with a wild mix of hope and dread. Six years older than my secret boyfriend, I’d trusted his easy promises. He always brushed me off about using a condom, flashing that cocky grin. "If you get pregnant, babe, I’ll marry you right away. Promise."

Just thinking about that made my stomach flutter. That morning, I was actually excited—maybe this was it, maybe I could finally stop hiding. I held the test, hands trembling, wanting to share the news with him. But as I reached for my phone, a notification lit up on his instead. I hesitated, curiosity prickling, and saw his group chat—one message after another popping up, names I recognized but never wanted to.

"Noah, Lila’s coming back soon—that’s your real girl. What are you gonna do about the old lady?"

My hands went ice-cold. My vision tunneled, and I felt physically sick, like the floor had dropped out from under me. The words blurred, but I couldn’t look away. They called me "the old lady," and the cruelty in their banter felt like a punch straight to my gut.

"Noah’s got the cougar totally whipped. What else is he supposed to do? Time for a breakup bang."

I stared, numb, watching the words pile up like a car crash in slow motion. Noah didn’t answer right away, so another message popped up: "Dude, you’re not catching feelings for your side piece, right?"

Their frat-boy banter was brutal and gross. I wanted to throw the phone, but I kept reading. This time, Noah replied instantly.

"C’mon, she’s just my practice run. Who cares?"

Something inside me shriveled. My hand shook, but I scrolled on. "If Lila wasn’t so uptight and always making me use a condom, I’d be with her instead."

Their chat was a wall of filthy jokes at my expense.

"Noah never wraps it up? Legendary."

"Of course. He picked an older woman because she’s easy, not for her age, right?"

"If Noah hates protection, she probably just takes the pill herself. How many’s she popped this year?"

Noah, usually so quiet, replied: "99."

The number was so jarring, the group exploded.

"Damn, Noah’s a legend. Got the cougar totally whipped."

"Please, Noah, teach us how to get someone easy and free!"

"Noah, go for it a few more times before Lila comes back. That cougar’s still got a killer body. Otherwise, nothing left to snack on."

Each message was a blow. I could feel the air getting heavy, the room closing in. I snapped pictures of the chat with stiff, frozen fingers, then set the phone down exactly where I found it. My body felt leaden as I collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the pale morning light streaming through the blinds.

Is this really Noah? I remembered telling him I was six years older, that I couldn’t handle a younger man.

A flash of memory: Noah showing up outside my office in the rain, holding out coffee and a donut, teasing me about my ridiculous double-sugar, no-foam order. I’d just been dumped—my best friend had stolen my fiancé, and everyone expected me to fall apart. Noah was the only one who showed up, all boyish energy and stubborn devotion. He transferred to my company just to be near me, made me his assistant so we could spend every day together. He’d been my sunlight in that cold, empty apartment.

Back then, I thought his warmth was real. He didn’t like using protection, so I took the pill for him. He wanted excitement, so I tried things I never would have on my own. I used to worry about getting pregnant, but he always insisted: if it happened, he’d marry me. I was in my thirties—maybe, just maybe, he’d give me a real home.

But all that warmth, all that hope, was a lie. He only came to me when he couldn’t be with his "real" sweetheart. I was just a warm-up act. Practice for the main event.

Two pink lines. My future, staring back at me, and I suddenly felt like the dumbest woman alive.

My grip tightened on the test until my knuckles ached. The only sound was the refrigerator humming in the kitchen, cold and indifferent. Suddenly, a voice behind me—Noah, fresh from the shower.

"Why are there two lines? Are you pregnant?"

My heart jumped. I forced myself to act calm, snatching the test away and tossing it in the trash.

"It’s just a cold test or whatever. I felt off, so I grabbed one."

He didn’t push it. Instead, he nipped at my ear, voice low and playful.

"I got you something spicy, babe. Wanna try 'em on for me?"

He hugged me from behind, hands gliding up my legs. His voice was all heat and promises. "I love your long legs so much. Wish I could just die right here with you."

There was a time those words would’ve set my heart racing, when I thought he saw me—not just my body. But now, I wondered if he’d ever really seen me at all.

I pushed him away, my voice cold. "I’m on my period. Not happening."

Noah’s face twisted into a pout. "Then just try the stockings, babe. I’ll take care of myself. After your period, you can make it up to me, okay?"

His words felt like knives. Make it up to him—like his friends joked, time for a breakup bang.

I’d done everything to please him. Beauty treatments, yoga, salads for dinner, all so he wouldn’t think I was old or boring. Now it felt like the cruelest joke of all. I was a woman, not some disposable toy.

Tears spilled over. Noah panicked.

"Babe, I was just kidding. I love your soul more than your body."

He wiped my cheeks, trying to look wounded. "It’s all my fault. I’ll punish myself—look, I’ll kneel on the remote!"

He dropped to his knees, clutching the TV remote, begging for forgiveness with fake puppy-dog eyes. It would’ve been funny if it didn’t hurt so much. For something so small, he could play the lovesick fool—but for everything else, I was just an afterthought.

I got up, closed the bedroom door behind me, and texted my best friend in Savannah: "You always said you’d have my back, no matter how messy. I’m cashing in on that promise. I’ll come find you in three days. I’m in."

Phone off, I wrapped myself in the comforter and cried until there was nothing left. My sobs echoed in the empty room. Noah, if all I wanted was sex, maybe I could’ve survived this. But I wanted love, too. And if I can’t have both, I’d rather have neither.