Her Secret Account

The bathroom light was bright as I stared at the pregnancy test, the two red lines growing clearer and clearer. My heart suddenly raced, my hands trembled slightly as I gripped the pregnancy test tightly. I'm going to be a mom! I have to tell my husband Ian Thomas. We've been married for two years, and we've always wanted a child. I held the pregnancy test and gently pushed the door open. The living room was empty; Ian had gone to the office. The mobile phone lay on the coffee table, the screen still lit. There was a Twitter message from Mia James: "Ian, meet me at our spot tonight." I frowned. Mia is my best friend—we've grown up together. She and Ian were normally just polite acquaintances. Why would she want to meet at the "spot"? I picked up the phone, about to reply, "He'll be with me tonight." My finger swiped across the screen, accidentally opening the personal file page of her account. A post visible only to her appeared, a photo taken inside Ian's car. Mia leaned on his shoulder, smiling sweetly, with the caption: "Three years already, and I still like you." The post was timestamped on the very day Ian proposed to me. My mind went numb with a buzzing noise. My hand started to tremble, and I nearly dropped my phone. I kept scrolling down—photos of the two of them, all together. In our bridal suite, Mia was wearing my pajamas. At the restaurant we used to go to, they sat together, sharing a couple's set meal. There was even a photo of Ian putting a ring on her finger. It wasn't a wedding ring, just a silver ring that looked very similar to the couple's rings I wore. The caption read: "It's not a wedding ring, but I know you have me in your heart." The post was made on our first wedding anniversary. I stared at the screen, tears falling—I realized they had been together all along. Behind the happiness I believed in, such betrayal was hidden. My phone rang; it was Mia calling. I took a deep breath and answered. "Luna, how are you? Have you been feeling unwell lately?" Her voice was gentle, just as usual, but now it only made me feel sick. "I... I'm pregnant."I said, my voice trembling. "Really? That's wonderful! I'm going to be the godmother!" Her voice was filled with surprise. "I'll come see you tomorrow and bring you some nourishing food." "Okay." I hung up the phone, tears streaming down even harder. I used to believe I was lucky—having the best friend to care for me during my pregnancy efforts, and a gentle, understanding husband who let me freely hang out with my best friend. But now, it seems I was the biggest fool. I held my mobile phone and stepped out of the house, taking a taxi to the hospital. I registered and waited in line. The doctor asked me, "Are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy? The baby is perfectly healthy." I nodded. "Yes, I'm sure." Tears fell onto the prescription slip, smudging the ink. I scheduled the abortion surgery for the next day. As I walked out of the hospital, night had already fallen. The wind was cold, cutting across my face like a knife. My happiness shattered completely.