He Thought I Was Pouting I Was Pregnant

The college reunion was exactly the high-wattage, performative social minefield Id expected.

I declined the glass of Pinot that Leothe perennial Campus Heartthrobheld out to me.

Lowering my gaze, I idly scrolled through my phone. On my feed, a discussion post immediately caught my attention:

[Ive been in a cold war with my ex for five years. She still won't drink the wine I pour for her. Should I finally break and forgive her?]

I froze, my eyes drifting across the room to the man across the table, who was typing furiously on his own phone.

After a moments pause, I tapped out a comment beneath the post:

[Is there a chance, perhaps, that shes pregnant?]

1

The user, the original poster, shattered immediately.

A cascade of frantic, typed-out retaliation followed.

[What are you even saying? Shes so in love with metheres no way I would be pregnant, much less her! Shes definitely just mad at me still.]

Before I could even reply, the comment thread had exploded with people piling on him.

[Stop being so ridiculous. People are already showing by now, and you still haven't moved on.]

[The undisputed Self-Delusion Champion. We recommend seeking immediate medical help for that level of denial.]

[Um, OP, is it possible that a 'cold war' of five years isnt a cold war, but a breakup?]

[LMAO, I am dead. The sheer audacity of this mans main character syndrome.]

[...]

The poster was active, replying to every single comment with a furious, eloquent defense of his position, determined to prove he was right.

Directly across from me, Leo, hammering away on his screen, grew visibly paler. His brow furrowed into a deep, frustrated V.

It was an unnerving, almost comical parallel. Id always known Leo possessed a certain level of self-absorption, but this... this felt like a mirror I hadn't wanted to look into.

I was pregnant now.

And no, the child was not his.

2

The small drama had barely caused a ripple in the reunions loud festivities.

Harper, the one whod always been the most gregarious, raised her voice over the noise. Leo, you big shot! An award-winning actor! Youre the biggest success story here. You owe us all an autograph before you leave.

Leo gave a non-committal hum, still staring at his phone, a faint, stormy cloud around his head.

Harper smoothly pivoted, looking at me.

But the biggest change has to be Eve here! That time abroad did you well, girl. You look incredible. Not just the figure, but you have this this gentle aura. Whats the word right! A certain maternal glow.

My hand instinctively moved to my lower abdomen, and I offered a soft, quiet laugh.

Before I could comment, Harper winked conspiratorially. I remember you two were quite the item back in the day. Still look like a power couple!

It was then that Leo finally looked up from his phone.

I wouldnt dare, he said, his voice flat. Some people arent even willing to accept a drink from me anymore.

His tone was mild, yet the corner of his mouth curved into a faint, challenging arc. It was the first time he'd truly smiled all night.

I ignored his veiled accusation. I met the eyes of the group and simply shook my head.

Youve got it wrong, I explained, the smile staying put. I have a boyfriend now.

Truth be told, it was more accurate to say husband-to-bewe were legally married, but with the big wedding reception still to come, I chose the simpler, more diplomatic title.

The next second, the sharp crack of glass hitting the floor sliced through the air.

Leos tumbler shattered. Wine splattered his expensive shirt.

His faint smile vanished. His eyes, now dark and opaque, fixed on me as he stood up.

His hands, hanging at his sides, clenched so tight I could hear the faint, sickening click of his knuckles locking.

I need to step out and clean this up, he said, his voice dangerously low, before I further offend some people who feel the need to invent boyfriends to spite me.

He turned sideways and walked straight out of the door. He didn't look at me again.

The room settled into a low hum of hushed conversation. Then, my phone vibrated.

It was Rhys. While Leo was frantically typing earlier, I had messaged Rhys to pick me up. He was waiting downstairs.

Perfect timing.

I grabbed my bag and stood up. Excuse me, everyone, I announced. My boyfriend is here. I have to run.

Harper looked genuinely surprised. Wait, I thought you were just messing with Leo! Youre serious? Who is this guy? Who managed to outshine King Leo?

Her eyes were wide with genuine gossip hunger.

Thinking of Rhys, I couldn't help but picture the way he'd kissed me last nighta tender, possessive kiss born of a simple, silly jealousy. My face warmed.

Hes a very accomplished man, I said, blushing slightly. And hes incredibly kind to me.

Before leaving, I reached into my bag and pulled out a stack of pristine, crimson wedding invitations. I distributed them to the circle of classmates.

Rhys and I are getting married next Friday at the Skylark Room. Id love for all of you to join us.

A moment of stunned silence gave way to an explosion of excited congratulations. Harper was the loudest, immediately asking for the address.

But then, her gazeand minelanded on the one empty seat at the table. The one seat that had no invitation waiting.

It was Leos.

Him? I shook my head without hesitation. No. Not him.

I didn't want a single memory, especially a bad one, of him mixed into the perfect celebration I was finally getting.

3

To be fair, not all memories of Leo were bad.

The beginning of any relationship is always coated in a thick, unrealistic layer of sugar.

In college, I was quiet and frankly, a bit dull. My only real escape was drawing clothes on scrap paperone sketch after another.

I wasnt a design major, but I loved it. Unlike me, those clothes had color. They had a future. They possessed an unlimited potential that I lacked.

It was my roommatewho was in the modeling clubwho accidentally found my work. She immediately submitted the sketches for the club's next show, which was lacking a theme.

Eve, you have such incredible talent, she insisted. How can you bury it like this?

I was overwhelmed. Talent was a word I had never associated with myself.

The show was held under the stars at a mountain clearing, illuminated by a bonfirethe theme was Cosmos. I was backstage, the designer, trying desperately to keep up with the demands of the models.

My last piecethe one I was proudest of, the centerpiece of the whole showwas meant to be showcased by Leo. He was the clubs star, the one eighty percent of the audience came to see.

My hands were shaking as I tried to adjust his necktie.

Nervous? Leo caught my hand and straightened the knot himself, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Im the one walking out there, and Im not nervous. Why are you?

He paused, then leaned in, close enough that I could smell his cologne. He was impossibly charming, the kind of flirt who knew exactly how attractive he was.

Or is it he whispered, because Im just too handsome?

Confidence on most men tips quickly into arrogance, but Leo, well, he genuinely was that handsome. Staring up at his perfectly symmetrical face, I couldn't form a coherent word. I was suddenly dizzy with nerves.

It was time for his cue. He nodded, then turned to walk onto the stage.

But he stopped just as he brushed past me. He turned his head and gave me a genuine smile.

Just kidding, he murmured. Dont worry. This is the best design Ive ever seen.

In that instant, my heart hammered against my ribs like a frantic bird.

I watched him walk out. The firelight flickered across the fabric of the coat, making the sequins look like a thousand stars had coalesced around him. The crowd went silent.

Leo was transcendent. The performance was a dream.

And when the dream ended, I reverted back to my quiet, unremarkable self.

But then, at the after-party, Leo came over and sat right next to me.

I instinctively shifted away.

He propped his elbow on the table, challenging me with a raised eyebrow. What, nervous again?

He closed the distance. My heartbeat immediately stuttered.

Perhaps it was the slight buzz from a few too many drinks. Or maybe it was a moment of reckless abandon. I lifted my chin and dared to say the most outrageous thing of my life.

What, do you like me?

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a wave of shock, and Leo clearly felt it too. We stared at each other in a silence that stretched for several awkward minutes.

The air between us grew thick, hot, almost tangible. The distance narrowed, unconsciously, then purposefully.

Until a soft warmth landed on my lips.

If that kind of heady anticipation could be spun into silk, we would have been wrapped in layers of cotton candy.

I heard his soft whisper against my ear. Eve, do you know how beautiful your eyes are? Theyre brighter than the stars.

I had never known that. Just as I had never known two people could start a relationship so haphazardly. We became a couple, year after year.

That year, we were secretly voted the Impossible Couple on campusthe most unexpected combination: the unremarkable me, and the dazzling Leo. But as time went on, and all the naysayers graduated, people got used to us.

Until our final year, when a talent scout discovered Leo, and he stepped into the world of entertainment.

4

Entering the industry came with a hundred caveats.

Fortunately, Leo had a brilliant and ruthless agent, a woman named Ms. Thorne, who controlled everything. But she had one iron rule:

No public relationship exposure.

The subtext was clear: he could not have a visible girlfriend.

Leo argued with Ms. Thorne repeatedly. During the most tense period, she completely shut down all his ongoing projects.

We were living together in a small apartment off-campus. Though Leo pretended to be carefree, saying he could use the time to practice lines, his frustration and palpable anxiety were a constant presence.

I eventually gave in.

Dont worry about me, I told him. Just do what you need to do. Im busy working on my portfolio here anyway.

We can still be together privately, I added. And when you get through the early stages

I was cut off as Leo wrapped his arms around me from behind. He buried his head in the hollow of my shoulder, rubbing against me like a grateful, furry dog.

Eve, why are you so good to me? His voice was muffled, thick with emotion. So good that I feel like I dont deserve you.

Once Im a star, Ill announce you to the world, he promised. Heaven itself won't be able to stop us. Well get one of those big villas with the garden you love

The dampness on my neck was cold, but my heart felt incandescently warm.

Yet, its hard for a person to empathize with their past self.

As time wore on, Leo acted in a few web dramas and started to gain a little fame.

At parties, people who knew us would ask about our relationship. I could only offer an awkward silence and gulp down my coffee.

God, that coffee was bitter.

It was so bitter that I felt my eyes prickle with tears.

The truth was, it was different. And I wasnt as unbreakable as I thought.

Rumors started circulating on campus that we had broken up. I stopped going to school as often, staying home instead. I buried myself in my design drafts, and waited for Leo.

But the more famous he got, the less he was home.

Soon, he appeared on the screen more often than he appeared in real life.

His striking looks landed him mostly romantic leads. Hugs, passionate gazes, and kiss scenes became the norm.

I watched him on screen, delivering deep, soulful promises to other women. I had to admit, he was a brilliant actor.

So brilliant that one night, I couldnt hold back. I cornered him when he was home and asked the question that had been eating at me.

Be honest. Do you ever catch feelings for the people you act with?

Leo paused, then quickly leaned in and kissed me fiercely.

What are you thinking? Of course not. he said.

And I believed him.

But in the deep, quiet hours of the night, a creeping dread always returned.

That feeling peaked the following year when the high school drama he starred in became a massive hit. Their love theme song was playing everywhere.

One night, he returned home from a celebratory dinner with the cast. He was so drunk he forgot to take off his clothes or wash up.

I struggled to get him settled and finally managed to pull him onto the bed.

It was then that Leo suddenly gripped my wrist and pressed a lingering, soft kiss to my hand.

He used to do this often when he was being affectionate. But this time, he was laughing a silly, drunken laugh, tears shining in his eyes.

Seraphina, he mumbled, his voice thick. Let me kiss you, please don't leave me.

I had watched all of Leos shows a hundred times. I knew the lineit was a key piece of dialogue from the hit drama.

But the name wasn't.

Seraphina was the name of his co-star, the girl who played the lead role.

I dont remember how I managed to finally drag him into a sleeping position. I only remember that he called out Seraphina and Fish (the characters nickname) repeatedly that night.

Suddenly, a quote Id seen online years ago flashed into my mind:

They wear other people's costumes, but the tears they cry are their own.

And then, my tearsmy own tearsstarted to fall.

People always say you have to give yourself security.

But facing yourself is the hardest part.

5

I stayed awake until dawn.

When Leo finally woke up, I lost all composure. I stared at him, desperately, hysterically demanding to know what had happened the night before. I demanded an explanation of his relationship with Seraphina.

This time, he didn't try to soothe me.

Leo sighed, his brow furrowed in irritation. Have you finally finished with the drama?

His tone was quiet, but his face was etched with exhaustion and annoyance.

Ive explained this a hundred times, Eve. Im done explaining. If youre going to constantly doubt me, whats the point of us being together?

I gave a dry, choking laugh. Youre right. Theres no point anymore.

That simple agreement seemed to finally anger him. His eyes turned to chipped ice as he stared at me.

He stood up and slammed the door behind him on his way out.

Moments later, I received his text:

[When you figure out what you want, Ill be back.]

But someone else returned before Leo did. His agent, Ms. Thorne.

Ms. Thorne was, indeed, a very responsible professional. She brought a bank card.

She placed it on the table without preamble and laid out the facts. She knew I was working on my portfolio for a Masters application. This money, she stated, was more than enough to cover my schooling abroad.

The one condition was simple: I had to leave Leo.

Ms. Hu, she said, her voice measured. Youre a smart woman. You need to think about the long-term.

Her sharp, astute eyes swept over me. She saw through me completely.

The drama blew up. Shipping him with his co-star is inevitable. If you cant handle this now, how will you handle the constant scrutiny later?

She leaned in, her voice softening, but her words gaining an insidious weight.

You know, Leo has already wasted several opportunities because of you. Do you truly want to keep doing this, for both his sake and yours? This is the best choice for both of you.

As she left, she paused and gave me a long, assessing look.

She whispered one last piece of advice into my ear: Go look in the mirror.

It sounded like a sneer. But when I walked to the mirror, I saw how truly awful I looked. My eyes were swollen and red, my hair a tangled mess.

I felt cornered, pushed to the edge of a cliff, completely out of options.

Big life choices are often made in a split second.

I picked up the card, dragged my suitcase out the front door, and took one last, self-deceiving action.

I called Leo one last time.

He didnt pick up.

I switched to a text message:

[Were done. Take care of yourself.]

After I sent it, I felt a flicker of cruel humor. He was a grown man. What was there to take care of?

Our relationship ended in a simple text message.

It had started with a meaningless flirtation, and it ended with a meaningless text. Perhaps this was the most appropriate end for us.

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