Amelia collapsed onto the cold hallway floor as the elevator doors closed behind Brad. Her sobs echoed in the quiet corridor, her pleas and apologies swallowed by the void he left behind. The realization of what had just transpired hit her like a sledge hammer, leaving her breathless and broken.
She clutched her chest as if to contain the ache tearing her apart. The weight of her actions—or the manipulations that led her here—pressed heavily on her shoulders. The video, the pictures, the lies—it all pointed to one undeniable truth: she had lost Brad, the one person she thought would stand by her no matter what.
Amelia’s phone buzzed beside her, snapping her out of her despair. She wiped her tears with trembling hands and glanced at the screen. Another text from Claire.
"Hope you got my surprise! Consider this a wake-up call, babe. Time to embrace the real you."
Anger flared within her, cutting through her grief like a sharp blade. Claire’s betrayal wasn’t just reckless—it was deliberate, cruel, and calculated. Amelia’s chest heaved as a mix of fury and determination bubbled to the surface.
But why did Claire do this to her? What did she gain from bringing her misery?
Rising shakily to her feet, Amelia wiped her tears and took a deep breath. Her heart was in pieces, and her future with Brad lay in ruins. How she was going to move on from this, she didn't know.
---
Barely a month after Brad had called off their wedding, Amelia's heart was still a raw, open wound. Just as she was beginning to find her footing in the aftermath of the betrayal of her best friend, she was hit with a wave of devastating news.
The day had started like any other. Amelia got ready for work with a routine precision, brushing aside the exhaustion that had become a permanent part of her life since the wedding fiasco. She needed to keep moving, needed to hold on to the stability her job offered, especially with rent overdue.
Arriving at the office, Amelia noticed the unusual tension in the air. Colleagues huddled in small groups, whispering furtively. Her heart sank, but she ignored it, heading to her desk. The email waiting for her in her inbox froze her in place.
"URGENT: Meeting with HR – 10:00 AM."
Her palms grew clammy as she checked the time. Ten minutes.
By the time Amelia reached the HR office, she was convinced she’d done something wrong. The HR manager, a middle-aged woman with a perpetually tight-lipped expression, gestured for Amelia to sit. Beside her was the department head, a man Amelia rarely saw but knew meant trouble.
“Amelia,” the HR manager began, her tone clipped and rehearsed. “Due to recent budget cuts, the company has made the difficult decision to restructure. Unfortunately, your position has been eliminated.”
The words hit her like a slap. “What?” she breathed, her voice barely audible.
“We’ll provide a severance package,” the manager continued, as though that could soften the blow. “And a letter of recommendation for future opportunities.”
“But—” Amelia’s voice broke. “I’ve been here for three years. I’ve always met my targets. I—”
“This decision isn’t personal,” the department head cut in. “We appreciate your contributions, but this is beyond our control.”
They handed her a folder with exit details and instructions for clearing her desk. It was over.
Her legs felt like lead as she walked back to her desk, ignoring the sympathetic glances from her coworkers. She packed her belongings in silence, each item a painful reminder of the life she’d tried to build.
By the time she got home, Amelia was on the verge of breaking. She dropped her box of belongings on the couch and collapsed beside it, staring blankly at the ceiling. A pile of unopened mail sat on the coffee table, taunting her. She reluctantly reached for it, flipping through bills and junk until her eyes landed on an ominous envelope.
She tore it open, her hands trembling.
EVICTION NOTICE
The words blurred as tears filled her eyes. She had one month to vacate.
Amelia’s chest tightened, her breaths coming in short gasps. Jobless and now homeless—it felt like the universe had conspired against her.
Before she could fully process it, her phone buzzed with a notification. She picked it up out of habit, only for her stomach to drop at the headline that greeted her:
"SOCIALITE BRAD HILTON AND CLAIRE MORGAN ANNOUNCE ENGAGEMENT!"
Her eyes scanned the accompanying photo, her breath catching in her throat. Brad stood beaming, his arm possessively around Claire’s waist, her diamond ring prominently displayed. The same Claire who had orchestrated the darkest night of her life.
Amelia’s stomach twisted violently. She barely made it to the bathroom before she retched, her body betraying her as waves of nausea consumed her. Kneeling on the cold tile floor, she clutched the sink, trying to steady herself. But it wasn’t just the sight of them together or the humiliation she felt—it was something more.
The nausea had been persistent over the last week, paired with a gnawing fatigue she couldn’t shake. A thought she didn’t want to entertain crept into her mind. Trembling, she rummaged through her bathroom cabinet and found an unused pregnancy test she’d bought months ago on a whim.
Minutes felt like hours as she waited for the results, her heart pounding with each passing second. When the small screen finally displayed two bold lines, Amelia could only stare at it, her mind blank.
Pregnant.
Tears streamed down her face, but they weren’t tears of joy. The weight of it all came crashing down—her job, her home, and now this.
She was pregnant.
Her hand instinctively rested on her stomach, her mind flashing back to that hazy, chaotic night—the stranger, the hotel room, the betrayal.
The pregnancy obviously wasn’t Brad’s.
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