The air in the apartment felt suffocating, heavy with the weight of betrayal. I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed - my boyfriend, the person I thought I knew so well, entangled with someone else. The pain in my chest was unbearable, and I needed to escape. I fumbled with my phone, hands shaking, as I tried to dial my manager's number. She was my lifeline, the one I could always count on, but tonight, she was nowhere to be found. Panic set in as I left voicemail after voicemail, pleading for her to answer, to rescue me from this nightmare. The chilly night air bit at my skin as I stood on the street corner, desperately scanning the empty roads for any sign of my manager's car. But silence surrounded me, broken only by the distant hum of traffic. My mind raced, searching for a way out of this despair. I took a deep breath, attempting to calm the storm raging inside me. My phone remained silent, and I realized I needed to take control of my situation. I couldn't wait for someone else to save me; I had to save myself.

I walked briskly through the tokyo streets, the cool night breeze drying the tears on my cheeks. The city lights flickered above me, a mosaic of emotions reflected in their glow. The pain was still raw, but I needed a sanctuary, a place to gather my shattered thoughts. Finding a nearby hotel, I entered with a heavy heart. The lobby seemed too bright, too welcoming, as I approached the reception desk. I booked a room, a room that felt too large for just one person. As I entered my temporary hideout, the vast emptiness echoed the hollowness in my heart. The walls seemed to close in on me as I sank onto the bed, the weight of the betrayal crushing my spirit. Doubt gnawed at me, questioning every moment, every shared laugh and intimate exchange. Was it my fault? Was I not enough? These questions haunted me as I lay there, staring into the abyss of uncertainty. The room seemed to amplify the silence, and tears welled up in my eyes as I traced the contours of my growing bump. The realization hit me like a tidal wave, and the ache in my chest mirrored the uncertainty of the future. Pulling out my phone, the screen illuminating my tear-streaked face. No missed calls or messages.

I discovered an inner strength, a reservoir of resilience that I never knew existed in me. a strength I found after everything that has happened, a determination to build a new foundation for both myself and my child. I tried to steady my emotions as I mechanically went through the motions of getting ready. The hotel room felt like a cold cocoon, and the outside world, with all its uncertainties, loomed on the other side of the door. My mind replayed the events of the previous day, the shattered trust, and the impending journey of single motherhood. As the weight of the recent events settled on my shoulders, a nagging dilemma crept into my thoughts. The revelation of my pregnancy hung in the air, an unspoken truth threatening to disrupt the delicate balance of my emotions. Torn between the desire for transparency and the pain of potential confrontation, I grappled with the decision to tell him about our unborn child. I found myself perched on the edge of the bed, my hand gently resting on my not-so-prominent baby bump. The little one growing inside me seemed to complicate my emotions even more. Sitting there, I pondered whether it was really worth telling him. I questioned whether he deserved to know, whether it was fair to burden him with the responsibility of a child conceived amidst the ruins of our shattered relationship. Mentally weighing out both pros and cons, a sense of protectiveness for the life growing within me surfaced. The bond between a parent and child is important, I know that; and the turbulent dynamics between Jiyong and I can't offer a stable foundation for a healthy upbringing. The pain, the betrayal, and the irreparable damage to our relationship created an environment that felt unfit for a child. With all these thoughts swirling in my head, I found myself shedding a few tears as I drifted off to sleep. The heaviness of the decision and the weight of my emotions played a lullaby, and the solitude of the hotel room enveloped me in a bittersweet embrace.

I woke up the next morning and rushed to the bathroom, a wave of nausea sweeping over me. It felt as if my baby was sending me a gentle reminder to stay strong