Cherry stared at the name on the screen—**Evans Wood.**
The weight of it settled in her chest, suffocating and crushing. **It wasn't just a name.** It represented a **world** she would never belong to, a world she had stumbled into by accident, only to be discarded like she was nothing.
Her fingers trembled as she closed the laptop. **Enough.**
She had spent too many nights drowning in questions, too many mornings waking up with the ghost of his touch lingering on her skin, too many seconds **wondering.**
She couldn't live like this.
She wouldn't.
Lena was watching her, waiting. **Waiting for the fight.**
Instead, Cherry exhaled slowly, the weight of her decision heavy in the air. "I'm letting it go," she whispered.
Lena flinched. "What?"
"I don't want to look for him anymore." She reached for the ring, gripping it one last time before setting it down. "He doesn't need to know. It's over."
Lena's fists clenched, her jaw tightening as if she were **physically holding back an explosion.** "Cherry, I know you. You don't let things go. You—"
"I am this time," Cherry cut in, her voice firm. She swallowed hard, **forcing the words out before she could regret them.** "He was drugged. He didn't choose this. And maybe he doesn't even remember me. Maybe I was just a mistake." Her voice cracked, but she pushed through. "I refuse to be the girl who chases after a man who probably forgot I exist."
Silence hung between them.
Lena's chest rose and fell, her breathing heavy, as if she were fighting the urge to **scream.**
Then, without warning, she pulled Cherry into a hug.
A tight, desperate hug.
Cherry stiffened for a moment before sinking into it, the warmth of Lena's arms making her throat burn.
"Fine," Lena whispered, her voice breaking. **But she sounded like she was shattering.** "If this is what you want, I won't push."
Tears pricked Cherry's eyes.
Because Lena wasn't just **giving up the fight.**
She was relinquishing the **only justice Cherry would ever get.**
And that meant more than words could ever convey.
###
Days turned into weeks.
Slowly, **life went on.**
Cherry focused on work, pushing through shifts at the club with **forced smiles** and hollow laughter.
She let the memories fade, allowed the ring to gather dust in the back of her drawer, and convinced herself that this was all behind her.
Until one night, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, **it all came crashing down.**
Her stomach churned violently, her head spinning with nausea. **Again.**
For the past week, she had felt sick—brushing it off as exhaustion, stress, **anything but what it really was.**
But now, as she stared at the little **plastic test** in her shaking hands, the truth screamed at her.
Two pink lines.
Her knees buckled.
Cherry clamped a hand over her mouth, as if she could physically stifle the **whimper that tore from her throat.**
**No. No, no, no.**
She slid to the floor, the cold tiles pressing against her skin, her chest rising and falling in ragged gasps.
She was **pregnant.**
She was **carrying his child.**
The realization punched through her like a knife, stealing the air from her lungs.
In that moment, every wall she had built around herself, every layer of protection she had carefully crafted—**shattered.**
A sob broke free, raw and **helpless.**
She wasn't ready for this. She was just **a girl.** Just **a barmaid.** She had no money, no stability, **no future.**
She had **nothing.**
Except this tiny, fragile life inside her.
A life that had never asked to exist.
A life that was now **hers to protect.**
The bathroom door swung open.
"Cherry?"
Lena's voice was **soft**—but the moment she took in the scene before her, that softness **turned jagged.**
Her eyes flickered to the test still clutched in Cherry's trembling hands.
Her breath hitched.
"Oh my God."
Cherry lifted her gaze, her cheeks stained with silent tears.
"I'm pregnant."
Lena **flinched** as if Cherry had struck her. "No."
Cherry closed her eyes. "Yes."
Lena took a sharp step forward. "Cherry, no. You—you can't. You're eighteen. You have your whole life ahead of you. You—"
"I know," Cherry whispered.
Lena fell to her knees, gripping Cherry's hands, her own shaking now. "Then tell me you're not keeping it."
Cherry's throat burned. **Torn.**
She wanted to say it.
Wanted to say she would get rid of it, that she would **erase this mistake before it ruined her life.**
But the words wouldn't come.
Instead, she placed a gentle hand on her stomach—so **small, so unnoticeable.**
And suddenly, **she knew.**
This baby…
It wasn't just his.
It was **hers.**
Her child.
And no matter how terrified she was, no matter how impossible this seemed—**she wouldn't abandon it.