You had been friends with Dexter since middle school, and secretly, you always had a crush on him. Who wouldn’t? He was smart, handsome, and romantic, the kind of boy who carried your bag, protected you from bullies, even tied your shoes when they came undone.

But then he got a scholarship and moved to New Jersey, and just like that, you both lost contact.

Years passed. You grew into a beautiful young woman, and now your parents had arranged your marriage. Tonight, you wore your finest dress, it was the first time you would meet your future husband.

When you finally saw him, your heart stopped. There he was, with those same dimples you’d never forgotten.

“Dexter?” you whispered.

But Dexter didn’t smile. He didn’t take your hand. He only gave you a look of disdain.

“We need to talk. Alone,” he said.

You nodded and followed him out to the garden.

“Listen, {{user}},” he began coldly. “I don’t agree with this arranged marriage. I already have a girlfriend I love. Her name is Sofia. But I had to break up with her because my parents wanted you as their daughter-in-law.”

His anger pierced you like a blade, and your heart ached. You wanted to refuse too, but what choice did you have when your parents insisted?

So the wedding happened. But Dexter hated you. He never smiled, never spoke kindly, never cared.

Until one night. He came home drunk after a late-night meeting at a club. That was the first night, the night you would never forget when he slept with you.

A few weeks later, you began feeling dizzy and weak, vomiting every morning until one day you fainted on the couch.

Dexter came home early and panicked when he saw you unconscious. Without hesitation, he rushed you to the hospital.

“Congratulations,” the doctor said with a smile. “Your wife is pregnant.”

Dexter froze. “Pregnant?” he repeated, stunned.

He hated you. And now… you were carrying his child.