Wifey’s Best Friend Knocks Her Up

Chapter 3

In the past, I would’ve caved in a heartbeat, bending over backward to make things right.

Because I loved her. Because seeing her upset, even for a second, felt unbearable.

But all those sacrifices, all my compromises, had turned into nothing more than ammunition for her. A leash she used to control me.

“Fine,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “Let’s break up.”

The room fell eerily silent. Time seemed to stop.

Nadia froze, her smug expression fracturing as disbelief took over.

Her lips parted, but no words came out at first. When she finally spoke, her voice was shaky, her finger trembling as she pointed at me.

“What... what did you just say?”

Over the years, we’d fought plenty of times. Every argument, no matter how heated, ended the same way—she’d threaten to break up, and I’d immediately fold, apologizing and begging her to stay.

Not this time.

This time, I wasn’t going to grovel.

Her confidence wavered. I could see it in the way her eyes darted, the way her hands clenched as if to ground herself.

I didn’t care anymore.

Without another word, I grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the door.

Behind me, Nadia stood frozen, too stunned to react.

When she finally came to her senses and moved to follow, Kieran stepped in, blocking her path.

“You don’t need to go after him,” he said smoothly, his tone oozing with faux understanding. “He’ll come back. Trust me.”

He leaned back, smugness radiating off him like heat. “He’s just throwing a tantrum to get your attention. I’m a guy. I know how these things work.”

Nadia hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face.

Sensing her hesitation, Kieran turned up the act. He sighed dramatically, clutching his chest like he might collapse.

“I’m still not feeling well,” he murmured, his voice frail. “Can you stay with me? Just for a little while?”

And just like that, he had her. Nadia turned back, letting me walk away without so much as a second glance.

I ended up at the company dorms, a temporary solution while I figured out my next move.

The company I worked for wasn’t mine. It was Nadia’s.

For years, I’d poured everything I had into it. Late nights, endless meetings, grueling client dinners. It was all for her. Every deal I closed, every investor I secured, was for her dream.

I thought if I worked hard enough, if I proved myself, we could finally go home together. My parents would see her success and stop objecting to our relationship.

But now, none of it mattered.

I called my mom.

The moment she answered, all the emotions I’d been holding back surged forward, and I broke down.

She didn’t ask what was wrong. She didn’t need to.

“My boy,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth and understanding. “You’ve suffered enough. Come home.”

Her words were like a balm to my soul. For the first time in years, I felt like a child again, safe, loved, protected.

“I broke up with her,” I choked out.

She sighed, like she’d been expecting this all along. “If you’re tired, come home. We’ll always be here waiting for you.”

In the background, I heard my dad’s furious voice.

“What happened? Who hurt him? I swear—”

“Calm down,” my mom cut in sharply. “We’ll deal with everything later. Right now, let him rest.”

I hung up, feeling lighter but utterly drained.

A few days later, I went back to the office to hand in my resignation.

The moment I submitted my letter, my phone rang.

It was Nadia. Her tone was sharp and commanding, like nothing had changed.

“Nash, what are you doing?” she snapped. “This project is critical for the company. Stop playing games and get back here to handle the clients.”

I didn’t even let her finish.

“I’ve resigned,” I said coldly. “Find someone else to deal with it.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end before she exploded.

“You’re really doing this?” she yelled. “Fine! Go ahead! There are plenty of people who can do your job. Don’t think you can manipulate me into begging you to stay!”

Her voice dripped with anger, but it didn’t faze me. Not anymore.

I hung up without another word, slipping the phone into my pocket as I walked away.

For the first time in years, I felt free.