The day I discovered I was pregnant, the entire city was buried under a blizzard.
With numb, trembling feet, I made my way to the private dining room where Kurt was having dinner, wanting to surprise him.
I also wanted to tell him that the Crown Prince he had offended had finally grown tired of me before the one-year "atonement period" was up.
We no longer had to pay off that million dollar debt!
"Kurt, isn't your proposal to Daniella coming up next week? Is the surprise ready?"
Hearing the voices leaking through the cracked door, I brushed the snow from my coat.
My cheeks were frozen red, yet I couldn't stop smiling.
Kurt was even planning a surprise...
"Daniella probably doesn't know you were the one who volunteered to send her to the Crown Prince as his personal secretary, right?"
"With a twisted personality like his, she must've been tortured miserably."
My hand froze mid-knock. My fingertips went numb.
Volunteer?
"What else could he do? She bullied Olivia so badly she developed depression and couldn't even go to college! Olivia is Kurt's first love. To punish Daniella, Kurt had it rough toosleeping with a secondhand woman must've been disgusting."
Cruel words sliced into my ears like knives. But I never did any of those things...
Panic surged through me. I looked toward the hazy reflection of Kurt inside the room.
He didn't deny it. He only let out a lazy, mocking laugh.
His friend continued.
"You guys don't know, right? The Crown Prince really went all out with Daniella. A few days ago he forced her to drink strong liquor until her stomach almost ruptured. Before that, he left her hanging on the balcony for a whole day and night! Oh, and the roller-coaster incidentshe was tied to the seat for seventeen rounds. She almost ended up in the ICU!"
Laughter exploded inside the room.
"And Kurt just asks, 'You okay, baby?' Then she says, 'I'm fine.' If she knew that every time she was tortured, Kurt got a project worth tens of thousands from the Prince, hahshe'd probably break down on the spot for you all to see!"
"She has no idea that the happiness she feels now will turn into despair in seven days."
A gust of wind hit my back, but I could no longer tell if the cold was from outside... or from the ice forming in my chest.
The laughter kept pouring out of the room.
I tried to speak, but it felt like someone had sealed my throat shut.
How... how could this be?
I remembered every time I was hurt, and Kurt's eyes would redden as he dabbed medicine on my wounds with trembling fingers. I remembered him apologizing, "It's my fault. I made you suffer."
I remembered him waiting for me every night, no matter how late, smiling softly as he said, "You're home."
Those gentle momentsthose tender wordswere the only reason I survived this past year.
But now... all of it was a lie?
Then someone inside teased, "What's wrong, Kurt? Already feeling sorry for her? Olivia will come back tomorrow. If you regret it and want to return to your miserable life with Daniella, there's still time!"
Kurt seemed to snap back to himself. He laughed and mocked, "Sorry for her? How could I?"
"She's nothing but used trash. She disgusts me."
The room erupted into another round of laughter.
"One week from now, at the proposal ceremony, I'll expose everything in publiclet her fall from the clouds straight into the mud. Then she can get out of my life, and I'll confess to Olivia."

I couldn't remember how I walked out of that restaurant.
My limbs were cold, as if blood had stopped bothering to flow to them.
The pregnancy test report slipped from my pocket, landing in the snowy road.
A truck rolled over it, crushing the damp paper until it disappeared
as if it had never existed.
I stared blankly at the street, every sentence I heard moments ago echoing in my skull.
Each replay carved another fresh wound into my chest. Especially that one sentence from Kurt, "She's just used trash."
That tonedisgust, contempt.
He had never spoken to me like that.
I couldnt understand.
I truly couldnt understand how things had become like this.
My breath hitched, and I held my head, trying to stop the chaos in my chest.
Kurt and I grew up in a broken family.
My father was an alcoholic; his mother struggled with mental illness.
For as long as I could remember, life had been nothing but tormentmy stepmother stabbing me with needles, my father smashing bottles over me.
Only Kurt was kind to me.
I was two years younger. Every time I was about to collapse, he stood in front of me and said, "Don't be scared. I'm here."
When the belt came down, he shielded my head with his own body so I wouldn't be beaten to death.
We survived those hellish days together.
Then, as if heaven took pity on us, our stepmother got drunk one night and fell into the river.
After that, only our father remained.
I spiraled into severe self-harm back then.
Kurt took blades from my hands over and over, showing me his own scars.