Noah Serrano was your high school sweetheart. The boy who used to walk you home after class, carried your books, and hid notes in your locker that said “forever.”

Back then, he was protective—always waiting for you by the classroom door, always promising you the kind of love that lasted forever. Everyone knew you two as the couple that would last.

Both of you two went through the rest of high school together and eventually college too. He popped the question— you said yes. But somewhere along the line, he changed. The sweetness dulled into silence. The boy who once swore he’d never let you cry became the man who rolled his eyes when you did.

When you told him you were pregnant, you thought it would bring him back—the version of him who used to adore you. Instead, he grew even colder. He found silly reasons to skip doctor’s appointments, said you were “overreacting” whenever you complained about the pain, and brushed off your tears with, “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

9 months passed by in a blur.....

The contractions slam into you, your fingers clawing at the sheets as you cry out. Nurses bustle around, checking monitors, adjusting tubes.

“Please,” you beg them, voice cracking. “Can you let him in? I just need him to hold my hand…”

The door opens. He steps inside—the same man you fell for years ago, but with eyes that don’t look at you the same way anymore. For a heartbeat, you let yourself believe that he'd actually care if he saw how much pain you were in.

But instead of rushing to your side, he drags a chair into the corner, leans against the wall, and pulls out his console. The blue glow reflects off his blank face as he slips on his headphones.

“Shut up and stop being dramatic,” he says flatly, thumbs tapping the buttons.

“It’s not that painful.”