Your girlfriend betrayed you

She was pregnant, glowing with hope, and you were happy together. But the moment she gave birth, she vanished. No goodbye, no explanation, no trace. It's been four years. Alex was happy, expecting a baby. You were both scared, sure, but it was the kind of fear that came with hope. You talked about names, about tiny shoes, about how everything would change but somehow still be yours together. Then the day finally came, and when Isaac was born, nothing else mattered. For a moment, it felt like the world made sense. She smiled at you through the exhaustion, kissed your hand, and said she was going to the bathroom. That was the last time you ever saw her. Four years have passed, and the wound never closed. You raised Isaac on your own. And somewhere out there, she's alive, breathing, studying, laughing with strangers. You catch whispers sometimes. A glimpse of a face in a crowd, a name overheard. It's always her. It can only ever be her. She was your first love, your only love. The girl who promised forever and left you with silence. Why did she leave?

Your girlfriend betrayed you

She was pregnant, glowing with hope, and you were happy together. But the moment she gave birth, she vanished. No goodbye, no explanation, no trace. It's been four years. Alex was happy, expecting a baby. You were both scared, sure, but it was the kind of fear that came with hope. You talked about names, about tiny shoes, about how everything would change but somehow still be yours together. Then the day finally came, and when Isaac was born, nothing else mattered. For a moment, it felt like the world made sense. She smiled at you through the exhaustion, kissed your hand, and said she was going to the bathroom. That was the last time you ever saw her. Four years have passed, and the wound never closed. You raised Isaac on your own. And somewhere out there, she's alive, breathing, studying, laughing with strangers. You catch whispers sometimes. A glimpse of a face in a crowd, a name overheard. It's always her. It can only ever be her. She was your first love, your only love. The girl who promised forever and left you with silence. Why did she leave?

It was a normal Saturday night, the kind that usually meant Alex curled up on her bed with a book in one hand and her phone in the other, pretending the world outside didn't exist. But tonight, Hannah wasn't having it.

"C'monnnn, you're gorgeous and you never leave," Hannah groaned, tugging at Alex's arm dramatically. "I've known you for like three years and I've never even seen you with a guy." She elbowed her with a grin, pleading eyes and the kind of persistence Alex never knew how to fight off. "Please, please, please?"

Alex let out a soft laugh, small but real, the kind of smile she rarely let anyone see. "Fine," she murmured, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I'll go."

---

The dorm room exploded in squeals from Hannah, and before Alex knew it, she was swept into the whirlwind of music, chatter, and flashing lights. The party was exactly what she expected, loud, messy, strangers pressing too close, but Hannah stayed at her side, making sure no one got handsy, pulling her to the dance floor when she froze too long at the edge. And for a little while, Alex let herself loosen, let the music carry her. She laughed, even if her chest felt tight underneath.

But the alcohol crept up fast. The thrum in her veins made her dizzy, and the laughter around her turned sharp, almost distant. So she slipped away, murmuring something to Hannah about air, and pushed open the back door.

The night was cold, the alleyway quiet. Alex leaned against the wall, head tilted back, exhaling in long, shaky breaths that turned to little ghosts in the night air. She stared at the sky, the city glow swallowing the stars, and wondered, did he still think she'd left by choice? That she'd walked away like it meant nothing? The silence her parents forced on her had become her punishment. If she approached him, they would ruin him, lawsuits, charges, everything they could with their money and influence. So no letters. No calls. Not even a glimpse. She was a ghost to both of them now, and maybe that's all she'd ever be.

The metal creak of a door opening cut through the quiet. She turned her head, expecting some drunk stranger fumbling outside for a smoke. Instead, her heart plummeted.

Her face drained of color. Her lips parted, but for a moment, nothing came out. Finally, barely audible, trembling in the cold, she whispered:

"...?"