Man Kicked Pregnant Girlfriend out – Story of the Day

My baby was the size of a pear, with his tiny hands and feet already taking shape in my belly. I was so thrilled to reveal this surprise to my boyfriend. I thought he would be delighted at seeing the ultrasound and shower both me and my baby bump with kisses. Instead, he threw me out of his house.

The doorbell chimed, a bright, jarring sound that tore through the bubble of excitement I'd built around myself. I smoothed the baby blue tablecloth over the table one last time, forcing a nervous flutter out of my stomach. With a final pat, I gently placed a pile of ultrasound scans on the table, their edges catching the soft light filtering through the window.

Four whole months Miles had been gone, chasing his football dreams across state lines. Today, he was finally home. The doorknob rattled, and then the familiar thud of his worn duffel bag hitting the floor echoed in the hallway. Taking a deep breath, I summoned a smile.

The door swung open, revealing a sweat-streaked, weary Miles. But his surprise wasn't at the sight of me. It was at the undeniable swell beneath the bodycon dress I wore. I was pregnant.

The balloons, the streamers, the "Welcome Home" banner strung crookedly across the room — they all seemed to shrink under my boyfriend's intense stare. The smile I'd practiced in the mirror for weeks faltered. His gaze dropped, landing on the prominent curve of my belly.

"Annabelle... you pregnant?? You didn't..." his voice trailed off, replaced by a horrified cough as he dropped his duffel bag.

My smile evaporated completely. "Didn't what, Miles?" I whispered. Anxiety twisted my insides into knots.

He clenched his jaw, knuckles turning white as he approached me. "The ABORTION. Didn't I tell you, Bella? We can't have this child..." his voice trailed off again. A lump formed in my throat…

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"I changed my mind, Miles," I said. "We talked about this. I know. But we are going to have this baby. I want to be a mother."

A strangled cough erupted from the doorway. Dave, Miles' friend and teammate, stood frozen, a silent witness to the unraveling of our world. Shame burned my cheeks, hot and prickly.

"Dude," Dave started cautiously, "stop yelling at her, man."

Miles threw him a withering look. "Shut the hell up, Dave. This is between us."

The tension in the room crackled, thick enough to choke on. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the already distorted image of Miles across from me. I clutched my stomach, the tiny life growing within instinctively seeking comfort amidst the storm.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"I want you to abort this child, Annabelle," Miles continued, his angry eyes flashing with barely concealed fury. "Now."

Abort. The word felt like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of me. 'No,' I croaked.

"We talked about you getting rid of it, didn't we?" he interrupted, his anger flaring.

"But I never agreed," I pleaded. "You were too engrossed in your tournaments and never had the time to talk to me or discuss what I wanted. I want to keep this baby, Miles. He's our son."

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"This isn't some fairy tale, Annabelle. I'm just starting to get somewhere with football. A baby now? It's a mess. Responsibilities I don't need... and don't want. I can't father this child. Never."

"Wake up, sleeping beauty! Love doesn't pay the bills!" Miles spat back. "And it sure as hell doesn't win championships."

"You never even gave our baby a chance," I protested, clutching my baby bump. "I was scared, Miles. Scared you'd leave if I told you I wanted to keep the baby. I thought, with time… you would accept and..."

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, cutting me off. "Time, Annabelle? You had four freaking months. Four months to do what I told you to do in the first place."

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

His words ripped me apart. I had been a coward, clinging to a dream that was quickly turning into a nightmare. "I…" I stammered, searching for the right words, for a plea that might reach the part of Miles that maybe, just maybe, still cared.

"There are no excuses," he cut me off, his voice cold and final. "It's the baby or me. You choose."

His ultimatum wasn't spoken words, but a monstrous weight pressing down on my shoulders. My gaze darted between the storm brewing in his eyes and the gentle swell of my belly, a silent promise of life blossoming within.

"I can't!" I exploded. "I won't murder my little miracle, Miles. This baby is mine too, a part of me growing with every passing day. I don't care if you don't want to be a part of this, but I will. This tiny life isn't yours to erase just because it doesn't fit your plans."

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"You can't do this, Miles," Dave chimed in. "Have some mercy. She's pregnant. Where will she go?"

Miles shoved him back with a snarl. "This is none of your business, Dave. Stay out of it!"

"This is your business too, you selfish jerk!" Dave roared, surging forward, his fists clenching at his sides. "You can't just throw her out like yesterday's trash! She's carrying your child. This isn't some fling. This is a life you helped create! Have some heart, man."

A shove sent Miles stumbling back. But that wasn't going to change his mind... or his heart. "Get out of here, both of you!" he roared, his face contorted with rage.

Looking down at the tiny life growing within me, a primal mama bear instinct roared to life. There was no room for Miles in this equation anymore. He could keep his ultimatums. His success. Career. Everything.

I wouldn't choose him over this tiny miracle. Not today. Not in a million other lives. Taking a shaky breath, I wiped my tears and stormed out of his house.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Fat snowflakes danced around the streetlamp, casting an ethereal glow on the deserted street. My breath hitched in the frigid air, mirroring the storm raging inside me.

How could you do this, Miles? How could you? After everything we've shared? All those promises... those sweet words... those whispers of togetherness… were they all cruel lies?

Collapsing onto the snow-covered step, I wrapped my arms around my swollen belly. Where would I go? Orphaned young, the shelter system had been my childhood reality. I craved a sense of belonging, a haven I could call my own. Now, even that flimsy comfort was ripped away.

Suddenly, a gloved hand landed on my shoulder, startling me out of my despair. "Annabelle?" Dave called out to me.

Looking up, I saw snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes, melting and tracing a glistening path down his cheeks.

"I... I don't know where to go," I confessed. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears back, but they spilled over anyway, blurring my vision.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Dave crouched beside me, his gaze lingering on my belly for a fleeting moment. "Come stay with me," he blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. "Until you get back on your feet."

The offer was tempting, a lifeline thrown in the churning sea of my despair. But pride, or maybe a stubborn streak of independence, made me shake my head.

"No, Dave. I can't do that. You're just offering this because..." my voice trailed off.

"Because Miles is a jerk?" he finished for me, his jaw clenched. "He doesn't deserve you, Annabelle. And believe me, he's no longer a friend of mine. No one with a heart that shriveled could be."

His words held a raw honesty that resonated with me. But the idea of being a burden, of accepting help out of pity, felt suffocating.

"I can't," I repeated, my voice firm despite the tremor running through me. "I don't want to rely on anyone anymore. Fate has a way of working things out, you know?"

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

As if on cue, a sharp pang shot through my abdomen, stealing my breath away. I gasped, clutching my belly in sudden discomfort.

Dave's eyes widened. "Hey, are you okay?"

Seeing my struggle, his concern morphed into determination. He grasped my hand, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"You're not going anywhere like this. Come on," he said, pulling me to my feet. "We're going to my place."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died on my lips. Maybe fate, in its own way, was already nudging me in the right direction. With a shaky breath, I allowed him to lead me towards his car, a sliver of hope flickering amidst the swirling snow.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

A shiver ran down my spine as I settled in the backseat of the car, the icy air clinging to me. "You don't have to do this, Dave," I mumbled, more to myself than to him.

"Don't be silly," he countered. "This isn't about you. It's about that little one in there." He gestured towards my belly, his brown eyes holding a mix of concern and something I couldn't quite decipher.

The truth was, despite my pride, a wave of relief washed over me. I didn't know where I would have gone in the middle of this blizzard.

The drive was mostly silent, the rhythmic whir of the windshield wipers the only sound breaking the stillness. My mind replayed the events of the afternoon on a loop, each scene more heartbreaking than the last. Miles' callous words, the slam of the door — they echoed in my head, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

After what felt like an eternity down the winding streets, I arrived outside a small, humble cottage. Dave's home offered a warm embrace compared to the sleek, modern chill of the space I shared with Miles.

Mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves spoke of a life well-lived. Yet, there was a sense of lived-in comfort that was strangely soothing.

"Thank you, Dave," I whispered, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. "For everything. Thank you."

He gave me a sheepish grin. "Sorry about the mess. I'm not exactly known for my housekeeping skills."

His nonchalance cracked a smile on my face, the first genuine one in what felt like a lifetime. A pang shot through my belly, and I instinctively reached down to cradle it.

Sensing my discomfort, Dave rushed to my side. "Hey, are you okay?"

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"Just a little cramp," I managed, forcing a reassuring smile. Seeing the overflowing sink, I decided to do the dishes. "Mind if I clear up your sink?"

"Uh, actually," he stammered, a blush creeping up his neck. "Don't worry! Let me take care of that."

He gently guided me to the couch, his touch surprisingly warm. A mug of steaming milk materialized in his hand moments later.

"Drink this," he said, pushing it into my hands. "You must rest. I'll handle the dishes."

As I took a tentative sip, warmth spread through my chilled body like water feeding barren soil.

For dinner, Dave whipped up a simple pasta dish. "Not exactly gourmet," he warned, setting the steaming plates on the small table. "Still, something edible!"

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

We ate in companionable silence, punctuated by the occasional clinking of forks and the satisfied sighs that escaped my lips. The food, though simple, tasted like a feast compared to the knot of anxiety that had been twisting my stomach all day.

Later, as the snow continued to grace the quiet street outside, Dave grabbed a pillow and blanket. "I'll sleep on the couch," he announced, his gaze flitting nervously around the room. "My room is just down the hall if you need anything, okay?"

A pang of guilt twisted in my gut. "Dave, you shouldn't have to do this. I'm an unwelcome burden. I'll sleep on the couch."

He shook his head, his expression earnest. "No burden at all. Get some rest, Annabelle. You deserve a good night's sleep. I can manage on the couch, no problem. Goodnight!"

With a grateful whisper of "sweet dreams," I retreated to his room, the simple sheets surprisingly welcoming. Yet, sleep wouldn't come easily. Images of Miles, the cold indifference in his eyes, replayed in my mind like a broken record. Exhaustion finally claimed me as I drifted off to sleep.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

A week had passed in a blur of quiet mornings and shared meals. Dave was an attentive host, always making sure I had everything I needed.

"Breakfast is ready!" he called out that morning, his voice echoing through the small cottage. "And don't forget, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."

I watched him disappear through the gate, the engine of his car a fading rumble in the crisp morning air. A strange mix of gratitude and guilt settled in my stomach. Dave had opened his home to me, offering a sanctuary when I needed it most. But I couldn't — wouldn't — become a burden.

Hesitantly, I approached the window, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. Pulling the curtains aside, I cast a furtive glance up and down the street. Seeing it clear, I hurried out of the door, a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The snow had stopped a little, leaving a pristine blanket of white on the sidewalks. Pushing a bicycle laden with a heavy delivery bag felt exhausting. But I had to go on. For me. For my baby. For us. I had to keep this new job in the supermarket I took up two days ago without telling Dave.

He would be upset if he knew. Wouldn't let me take the trouble and treat me like a queen. No. That was wrong. I would never take his help for granted and burden him more.

This job didn't offer any attractive perks but was enough to be able to pay for my routine checkups, ultrasound scans, and save some money for welcoming my baby into the world.

The cool breeze bit at my exposed cheeks as I navigated the quiet streets. Every pedal stroke was a battle against the weight of the groceries and the growing ache in my lower back. Just as fatigue threatened to overwhelm me, a loud honk shattered the silence.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

My head whipped around, heart hammering against my ribs. A familiar white car pulled up beside me, Dave's face etched with a mixture of concern and disbelief in the driver's seat.

"Annabelle? What are you doing out here?" he demanded, throwing open the car door and immediately stepping out.

Shame burned through me, hotter than the winter wind. "I... I'm working," I stammered. "Doorstep grocery delivery... you know?"

"Working? In this weather? You can't be serious!"

I pushed the bike forward, forcing a smile. "It's just a little delivery, Dave. No big deal. Besides, I'm bored at home."

"No big deal?" he echoed, his voice rising. "You're pushing a bike loaded with groceries! You're pregnant, Annabelle! You need to take care of yourself."

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

His words stung, a harsh reminder of my vulnerability. But did I have a choice? I didn't want to be a burden on him. "I can't stay at your place and do nothing, Dave," I said. "I need money for my vitamins, the ultrasound, everything. I don't want to trouble you further."

He stared at me for a beat too long, his brows furrowed. Then, a slow nod. "Alright, come with me," he whispered, gently grabbing my hand. "I want to show you something."

Hesitantly, I abandoned the bike on the sidewalk, following him to the car. He opened the trunk, revealing a treasure trove of neatly stacked boxes.

My breath hitched as I saw a rainbow assortment of prenatal vitamins, a stack of maternity clothes sized for the next seven to nine months, a package of diapers, and a soft, fluffy maternity pillow.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the image before me. "Dave, I..."

He cut me off, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Consider it a welcome gift to the little one on board."

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Tears spilled over, tracing a warm path down my cheeks. Under the winter sky, a tiny flicker of hope ignited within me. The unexpected kindness moved something in my heart.

A sheepish grin spread across Dave's face. "Matilda, my secretary, she's a pro at this stuff. Two kids of her own, you know. Practically an expert. Took her help!"

His words washed over me, barely registering. My gaze drifted over the carefully chosen items, each one a testament to Dave's compassion. I felt a strange sense of dislocation. Here I was, homeless and heartbroken, yet surrounded by this unexpected bounty.

Dave was everything a woman would want. He was thoughtful, caring, someone who went above and beyond to make you smile, to make you feel valued. Unlike Miles, who had discarded me like yesterday's trash, Dave was building a sanctuary around me, brick by fragile brick.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

A soft smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I met his gaze. The concern in his eyes mingled with something else, a flicker of warmth that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Why, Dave?" The question tumbled out before I could stop it. "Why are you doing all this for me?"

He shrugged, a touch of self-consciousness coloring his cheeks as he squeezed my hands gently. "Because this little champ needs a strong start. And you, Annabelle, you're gonna be one hell of a mama!"

"If there's anything more you need," he continued, his voice gentle, "just make a list, Annabelle. Anything you can think of. I'll get it for you."

Words failing me, I pulled him into a hug, tears spilling over. "You shouldn't," I choked out, throwing my arms around Dave in a sudden, fierce embrace. The scent of laundry detergent and something uniquely Dave filled my senses, a grounding comfort amidst the storm of emotions.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Pulling back, I wiped my tears, a hesitant smile gracing my lips as I turned down his surprise. "I can't accept these things, Dave. It's too much."

"Nonsense," he countered, his gaze unwavering. "Look, you can pay me back, alright? How about you cook me some of those delicious meals you mentioned a few days ago?"

A blush crept up my cheeks. "You don't need my help, Dave." It was a statement laced with realization. He didn't need my cooking; he was simply creating a way for me to feel like I was contributing, to maintain a shred of dignity.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Maybe I don't," he admitted. "But trust me, those meals would be a welcome change from my culinary disasters!"

His playful wink brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from my chest. It was the first time I'd laughed since my world had crumbled just days ago.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

With a shaky nod, I agreed. Rubbing my belly softly, a silent wish echoed in my heart. That Dave, with his kind heart and gentle spirit, was the kind of father a child deserved. A pang shot through me as I thought of Miles, the stark opposite in every way imaginable.

Dave took the heavy delivery bag out of my grasp, tucking it safely into the trunk of his car. The bicycle followed suit, leaning precariously against the backseat.

"There you go," he said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "All unloaded."

Gratitude choked my voice. "Thank you, Dave. You really didn't have to do all this."

He winked, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Consider it payback for that incredible lasagna last night. By the way, Matilda wants the recipe."

A blush crept up my cheeks. Cooking had become a way for me to express my thanks, a small token of appreciation for Dave's unwavering support.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

We pulled up to the supermarket, the familiar sight causing me unease. Dave must have sensed my hesitation.

"Ready to face the manager?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

I shook my head. "Actually, there's no need for that. Can you tell him... well, that I won't be returning?"

Dave's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you sure, Mama Bear?!"

"Positive," I smiled, clutching my stomach. "Thanks to you, Dave, I don't have to worry about work. At least for a while."

A slow smile spread across his face. He parked the car and together we walked towards the entrance. But instead of heading straight for the checkout, Dave veered off towards the dairy aisle.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned the shelves, finally emerging with a triumphant grin and two tubs of ice cream. My sweet tooth, a constant companion these days, did a happy dance.

"Chocolate chip cookie and mint chocolate chip?" he asked, his voice brimming with mischief. "Didn't want to limit your choices."

Laughter bubbled up from my chest, a sound that felt foreign yet strangely familiar. "You know me too well already, Dave."

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

The rest of the shopping trip was a whirlwind of Dave filling the cart with fresh fruits, healthy snacks, and enough cheese to feed a small army and to keep my pregnancy cravings fully satisfied. At the checkout, he gently swatted my hand away when I reached for my purse.

"Don't even think about it," he said, his voice firm yet laced with a tenderness that sent a flutter through my heart. "Food cravings are a part of the package, remember?"

My heart overflowed with a warmth that had nothing to do with the mountain of groceries stacked on the conveyor belt. This man, who had become my unexpected savior, was taking care of me in ways I never thought possible.

***

As the weeks turned into months, the bond between us deepened. And my belly grew bigger. Should've seen Dave's face when he gently placed his hands on my tummy and cried out of joy feeling my baby’s gentle kicks!

He was always there, a steady presence in my ever-changing world. He'd help me down the stairs with a gentle hand on my back, fetch me pillows when I needed to prop myself up in bed, and even lace up my shoes when my belly made bending down a Herculean task.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

He surprised me with little gestures — a bouquet of lilies on a random Tuesday, a pregnancy massage voucher tucked into my nightstand drawer, a stack of pregnancy magazines and birthing videos meticulously chosen with the help of his ever-resourceful secretary, Matilda, and their doctor friend.

Each act, big or small, chipped away at the walls I'd built around my heart. I found myself falling for Dave, a slow, steady tumble into a love I hadn't dared to dream of.

Time had a way of slipping through my fingers like sand. One moment, I was a scared, heartbroken woman on his doorstep, the next, my reflection in the mirror showed a heavily pregnant woman, the due date circled on the calendar looming closer with each passing day.

Somewhere along the way, the walls I'd built around my heart had crumbled under Dave's relentless kindness. Yet, a new fear, a different kind of terror, had taken root.

What if my feelings weren't reciprocated? Who, in their right mind, would want a pregnant woman, a single mother with a past as messy as mine, as a soulmate?

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

The thought of confessing my love, of laying bare my heart and risking rejection, was enough to make me retreat further into the emotional fortress I'd constructed. It was safer this way, to pretend normalcy, to bury my feelings in a deep, dark cranny of my heart.

***

Tonight was chicken casserole night, a ritual that had become a cornerstone of our little routine. The kitchen danced with the aroma of garlic and simmering tomato sauce, a familiar comfort settling over me. Dave walked in, his tie loosened, a tired smile etched on his face.

"Smells incredible," he said, leaning in to place a bouquet of tulips in the vase.

As Dave settled at the table, the clatter of forks became a soothing rhythm against the backdrop of comfortable silence. Dave took a generous bite of the casserole, his eyes lighting up with delight.

"Annabelle," he exclaimed, "this is phenomenal. You have the hands of a chef, truly."

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A warmth bloomed in my chest, a fragile thing threatening to unfurl. "Thank you," I whispered, a shy smile gracing my lips.

"Tastes like my Mom's recipe. Yours reminds me of her cooking sometimes, you know?" Dave paused, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. "My mom... she used to make the best chicken casserole. This one… it tastes exactly like hers."

The moment stretched, filled with an unspoken intimacy. Emboldened by the connection, by the shared memory, I blurted out the words that had been trapped inside me for far too long.

The air crackled with sudden tension. I froze, the knife stuck halfway on the celery I was chopping. Dave, too, seemed paralyzed, the smile wiped clean from his face.

I just called him 'honey.' Holy Christ. Where had that come from? Had I just ruined everything?

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

His coffee-brown eyes held mine for a beat too long before he looked away, a muscle in his jaw clenching and relaxing. The silence that followed stretched on, heavy and suffocating.

Shame burned in my throat, acrid and bitter. Maybe I had been right all along. Maybe this… whatever this was between us… wasn't what I thought it was.

Panic clawed its way up my throat, choking back the carefully constructed apology. "Dave?" I squeaked, his name sounding alien on my tongue. "I, uh... I have no idea where that came from. Hormones, maybe? Pregnancy brain! I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to—"

The flimsy excuse hung heavy in the air as I watched Dave for any signs of forgiveness. He continued to stare at me, his expression unreadable. Finally, he forced a tight smile, the effort etched around his eyes.

"That's alright!" he mumbled, pushing himself away from the table. He shoved the last few bites of casserole into his mouth with uncharacteristic haste, wiping his mouth with a napkin with a flourish that spoke volumes. "Delicious, as always. Thanks for the lovely dinner."

Before I could respond, he was out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing through the small cottage. I watched him disappear into the living room, my heart thudding against my ribs like a trapped bird.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Dave didn't return for coffee, his usual after-dinner ritual. Instead, the soft sigh of him settling down on the worn cushions drifted through the air, followed by a gentle rustle of sofa fabric. The silence returned, heavier this time, laced with the weight of my own stupidity.

The feigned smile on my face evaporated like morning dew. Shame threatened to choke me. Why? Why did I have to blurt that out? It was like I had a self-destruct button wired into my emotional core, programmed to detonate at the worst possible moment.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the image of the half-chopped celery on the counter. Dave was obviously upset, and with good reason. I had crossed a line, misread the signals, and now I was facing the consequences.

***

The three days that followed were a blur of strained silences. Dave left for work earlier than usual, his hurried goodbyes hanging heavy in the air. He returned late each night, retreating straight to the couch after dinner, his eyes glued to the TV, a clear signal that conversation wasn't welcome.

I tried to initiate small talk, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm that had opened between us. But each attempt was met with a vague grunt or a curt nod, effectively shutting me down. The rejection stung.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

That afternoon, I was curled up on the couch, lost in a sea of worry and self-loathing, when a sharp electronic chime shattered the oppressive silence.

It was the voicemail notification on Dave's phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table.

A woman's voice, professional and polite, filled the room. "Mr. Evans, this is a reminder that the documents for your new apartment are ready for pick-up at your convenience."

The ground lurched beneath my feet. My breath hitched, a sob catching in my throat. Tears welled up in my eyes, overflowing like a dam bursting.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

A new wave of pain, sharper and more intense than anything I'd felt before, washed over me.

It wasn't the physical weight of the baby pressing down on me. It was the weight of a broken heart, a love unrequited, a future stolen before it even had a chance to bloom.

Dave was moving out. Not because he was ashamed of me being pregnant. But because he was ashamed of… what? Kicking out a woman who loved him, a woman carrying another man's child?

The thought was unbearable. Paralyzing, to say the least.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Numb with despair, I rose from the couch, my legs shaky and weak. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I couldn't stay here any longer.

Not in this apartment filled with the ghosts of unspoken words and shattered dreams. Not as someone's burden. I had to leave. Immediately. I had my baby... my sweet little boy. He was enough. We had each other.

***

The insistent blare of the doorbell startled me out of my despair. Wiping my tears hastily, I shuffled towards the door, a sliver of hope flickering within me. Maybe it was Dave, returning early from work, with words of apology and forgiveness on his lips.

But the hope died an instant death as I swung the door open. Standing on the doorstep, a smug grin plastered on his face, was the last person I expected to see — Miles.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"Annabelle!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with a false cheerfulness that sent shivers down my spine. "Looking... well, let's just say motherhood has blessed you with some extra pounds of weight!"

His gaze swept over me, lingering pointedly on my protruding belly. The casual cruelty of his remark ignited a spark of fury in my eyes.

"What are you doing here, Miles?" I demanded.

The smug grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. "What am I doing here? Shouldn't I be asking you the same question? What are you doing in my friend's house?"

The audacity of his question took my breath away. "Your friend's house? That's none of your business, is it? And what are you here for? This isn't some guest house you can waltz in and out of whenever you please!"

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"Now, now, Annabelle," Miles soothed, his voice taking on a patronizing tone. "No need to get defensive. Just wondering if you're done enjoying your little staycation with my bachelor buddy here."

The implication in his words was unmistakable. My throat tightened, the familiar feeling of vulnerability threatening to engulf me. But this time, I wouldn't let him prey on my insecurities.

"Get out, Miles," I yelled. "Now."

A flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly morphing back into that infuriating smirk. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But before I go, let's talk about the real reason I came."

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

My mind reeled. Here he was, the man who had abandoned me at my most vulnerable, suddenly reappearing with a proposition so outlandish it bordered on comical.

"Home?" I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "You haven't seen us in months, Miles. Why are you here? What do you want?"

"Because I'm ready to be a father!" he interjected.

"What? Father?" I asked.

A slow smile spread across his face, a predator savoring its prey. "Bingo," he said, his voice devoid of any genuine emotion.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

His words hit me like a gut punch, the air suddenly hard to breathe.

The man who couldn't handle the thought of fatherhood just a few months ago, was now willing to exploit his child for his own gain. Disgust curdled in my stomach.

I shoved Miles back, the anger lending me a strength I didn't know I possessed. "Get out, Miles! You're a monster!"

He recoiled, a flicker of something akin to surprise crossing his features. "Monster? Hardly, Annabelle. Just a businessman taking advantage of an...opportunity. It's what anyone smart in my place would do, really."

"You're wrong!" I retorted. "Not all men are perverts like you, Miles. There are those with a heart of gold."

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

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I Was Forced to Wear a Bra – Story of the Day

Feb 15, 2024

A cruel laugh erupted from his throat. "You mean Dave? Don't be stupid, Annabelle! That guy's a bleeding heart, throws money at every charitable cause under the sun. You think he took you in because he loved you? Cared about you and your baggage? You were just another project, a chance to play hero. A charity case, not his ladylove."

Could he be right? Was Dave's kindness all a performance, a carefully curated act of philanthropy? The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally cascaded down my cheeks.

***

A searing pain ripped through my lower abdomen, doubling me over. A gasp escaped my lips, a strangled cry of surprise and fear. I clutched my belly, the pain intensifying with each passing second.

Miles, who had been watching me with a mixture of amusement and disgust, finally reacted. He wrinkled his nose, his face contorting in revulsion. "Seriously, Annabelle? Can't you control it? Did you just… wet yourself?"

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

His face drained of color, the amusement replaced by a look of sheer horror. "Water broke?" he stammered, taking a step back as if I was contagious. "You mean… the baby's coming?"

Before I could answer, another wave of pain crashed over me, stealing my breath and leaving me trembling for balance.

I was going to have this baby, alone, in Dave's apartment, with a man who saw me as nothing more than a burden, a liability, and a stain on his carefully constructed image.

A wave of nausea washed over me, and the last thing I registered before the darkness claimed me was the sight of Miles crumpling to the floor, unconscious.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

A guttural cry ripped from my throat as another wave of pain slammed into me. I doubled over again, clutching my stomach, tears streaming down my face. Just then, the sound of the front door opening pierced the tense silence.

"Annabelle?" Dave's voice called out. "Are you alright?"

I looked up, my vision blurry through the haze of pain. He stood there, his face etched with worry as he dropped his bag to the floor and rushed towards me.

"My water broke," I gasped, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

"We need to go to the hospital," he said.

"No," I choked out, pushing his hand away weakly. "I can't… I won't be a burden anymore. I'll go on my own."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "A burden? What are you talking about?"

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"I… I'm so sorry, Dave," I stammered, tears blurring my vision further. "For everything. For intruding into your life, for making you take care of me all these months."

"What's wrong, Annabelle? Who put this crazy idea in your head?" he squeezed my shoulders gently.

"I know… about the new apartment," I whispered. "You were moving out because of me. Because you don't want me… or the baby."

A strangled gasp escaped his lips. He cupped my face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. "Annabelle, look at me," he firmly said. "You've got it all wrong."

I stared up at Dave, a flicker of hope battling with the despair that threatened to consume me. "Wrong?" I gasped.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

"The new apartment," he explained, his eyes searching mine. "It's not because I don't want you. It's because this place is too small for the three of us."

My breath hitched. "Three of us?" I repeated, a sliver of hope blossoming in my chest.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "The new place has a nursery. It's all set up for our little miracle on the way. Crib, rocking chair, the whole shebang. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"A surprise?" I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes again, this time for a different reason altogether.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Relief washed over me, warm and sweet, chasing away the cold grip of fear and despair. "You… you like me?" I cried, holding my aching belly.

"Our baby?" Joy flickered in my eyes, a stark contrast to the grimace contorting my face with each agonizing contraction. "Did you just say—" a sharp, stabbing pain ripped through me, sending me into Dave's arms.

"Maybe the little one's just too eager to see the new place," I gasped through gritted teeth, a weak attempt at humor.

Dave scooped me up in his arms with surprising ease. "We're going to the hospital," he said.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

The car ride to the hospital was a blur of sharp pains and whispered reassurances. Dave held my hand, his grip strong and steady, a silent promise that he wouldn't let go.

By the time we reached the emergency room, I was a whimpering mess, completely at the mercy of the pain that threatened to consume me.

The next few hours were a haze of medical jargon, hurried footsteps, and the sterile smell of disinfectant. But then, a piercing cry cut through the haze, a sound so raw and heart-wrenching it brought tears to my eyes.

My beautiful baby boy had arrived, a healthy eight pounds of pure perfection.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Holding him in my arms for the first time, all the fear, the doubt, the pain — it all melted away. I was a mother, and the world shimmered with a newfound brilliance.

***

Six years flew by in a whirlwind of sleepless nights, gurgle-filled laughter, and the messy joy of parenthood. The hospital room once again echoed with a different kind of cry, a high-pitched wail that announced the arrival of our little miracle — a baby girl my husband Dave and I named Hope.

Looking at Dave, his eyes shining with love and pride as he cradled our daughter, a wave of gratitude washed over me. The past, with its heartaches and mistakes, seemed like a distant dream. Miles was a forgotten chapter, a torn page in the story of my life that I never wished to revisit.

I had found my happily ever after, not in a grand gesture or a whirlwind romance, but in the quiet moments of shared laughter, the unspoken understanding, and the unwavering love that bloomed between Dave and me. And as I drift off to sleep every night with the tiny fingers of my son and daughter wrapped around mine, I know I'm the luckiest woman alive.

"Thank you," I often whisper silently to Dave, the man who'd shown me that love could bloom in the most unexpected places.

And in this new chapter, with Dave by my side and our lovely children nestled in my arms, I wouldn't trade a single line for the world.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

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While a pregnant Annabelle found true love after being kicked out by her boyfriend, in another corner of the world, Megan found her special someone after her husband David left her. He not only fat-shamed his devoted wife but also dumped her for another woman. Here's the full story.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.