Bleeding White: His Betrayal, Her Rise

The charity gala was in full swing, a glittering celebration of my boyfriend Mark' s success, and the return of his high school sweetheart, Emily. I stood quietly, a shadow in a white dress, watching him hang on her every word.

Then, he finally noticed me, and with a flicker of annoyance, pushed a glass of champagne into my hand, instructing me to toast Emily. I murmured that I couldn' t, as only he and I knew I was two months pregnant.

He dismissed me, his friends and Emily' s condescending stare suffocating me. Trembling, I swallowed the bubbly liquid, and a sharp cramp immediately seized my abdomen. I gasped, dropping the glass, as a dark red stain spread across my white dress. Pain blinded me.

Through the agony, I saw Mark. He hadn' t even glanced my way. He was carefully spoon-feeding Emily expensive caviar, laughing. "Don' t mind her," I heard him say, his voice distant and dismissive. "She' s just a pet I keep. Can' t live without me."

I woke up in a cold, white hospital room. The doctor gently told me the baby was gone. My heart hollowed out. On my phone, Mark had updated his profile picture to Emily' s elegant side profile. I tried to message him, but a small, gray text appeared: You have been blocked by this user.

My heart hardened. The image of him feeding Emily while I bled, his words-just a pet I keep-echoed in the silent room. This time, I didn't cry. I booked a one-way ticket to Paris, leaving in three days, and a strange calm washed over me.