Chapter 4: Night on the Bench

Night had fallen.

The whole park was deserted.

So quiet you could hear every breath, every heartbeat.

The silence wrapped around us like a blanket, broken only by the distant sound of a train passing, echoing childhood summer nights and innocent picnics.

"Don't, Ethan..."

"I'll get pregnant..."

My white dress was a mess around his legs, on the bench.

My hair at my temples was damp, my eyelashes wet.

Beside us, the moonlight stretched our shadows, long and tangled together.

It was the kind of night that felt endless, the air heavy with secrets. I clung to the edge of the bench, trying to steady my breathing.

Ethan kissed the tears at the corners of my eyes, gently rubbed my lower belly.

His lips were soft, almost apologetic. I tasted salt and longing, a mix of everything we'd never say out loud.

I cried harder, biting my lips, not daring to make a sound.

Ethan leaned back on the bench, satisfied.

But his hand still rested on my belly.

"Ethan, what if I really get pregnant..."

My heart was in a panic, but there was a faint hope in it.

Somewhere deep down, I wondered if this was the moment everything would change, if he'd finally choose me.

"If you do, just have it. I’ll pay child support, be your baby daddy, the whole nine yards."

I couldn't help but open my eyes wide.

Ethan just grinned, reckless as ever. "Silly girl, I'm kidding. You're still so young—what kid?"

He was always like this.

In bed, or in those ambiguous moments.

My heart ached, swollen, intense, unbearable.

I want to go home..."

I gently pushed him.

My body was utterly satisfied, happy.

But my heart was full of grievances.

Indescribable, unspeakable grievances.

I wanted to tell him everything—how much it hurt, how much I wanted more. But the words never came.

"Alright, let's take our silly girl home."

Maybe because what happened just now was so satisfying,

He seemed in an especially good mood.

He pinched my face, kissed me again.

His lips were playful, lingering a second longer than usual. I wanted to hold onto that feeling, even though I knew it wouldn't last.