Prologue

Paige's POV

Six years ago

I couldn't hold back my tears as I confronted the boy I once thought loved me . "You can't just deny everything like that," I screamed, desperation lacing my voice.

He replied with a nonchalance that cut deep. "Well, watch me," he said, crashing onto the sofa in his room as if the gravity of our situation weighed nothing on him.

"We need to find a solution to this pregnancy; you can't expect me to just abort our baby," I pleaded, trying to make him see reason. But the look he gave me was a clear indication of how foolish he thought I was.

"Your baby, not ours," he coldly retorted, his words like a shock to my system.

"Are you seriously denying that you slept with me and got me pregnant?" My voice broke as I let my tears flow, no longer able to contain my emotions.

"Look, I accept that I slept with you, but I definitely didn't get you pregnant. Why don't you ask all your numerous lovers? Maybe one of them will own up to it," he said, his expression bored, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather.

"What are you talking about? I don't have any other boyfriend apart from you," I countered, trying to deny the harsh truth he was forcing me to face.

"Oh, please spare me all these. Whenever you're done with this drama, leave and shut the door behind you," he dismissed, standing up and walking towards the bathroom, leaving me wide-eyed and alone with my turmoil.

"Just so you know, if anyone asks you who is responsible for that thing you're carrying and you dare call my name, I promise you I will deny ever knowing you. And trust me, I'll make your life miserable," he threatened before disappearing into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. I was left alone, my silent sobs turning into loud cries.

I dragged myself back home, grateful to find it empty. Sitting on the floor of my room, I was engulfed by thoughts of my naivety. My mother had warned me about guys like him, but I thought Jace was different. He was kind, caring, and sweet, or so I thought. Blinded by love, I ignored the signs. Now, here I was, 16 and pregnant. My mother, already struggling to make ends meet, would be devastated. I couldn't bear to add to her burdens.

With a heavy heart, I packed my belongings, determined to leave and not let my mother suffer further because of my mistakes. This was a cycle I couldn't let continue – my father had left us in a similar situation 16 years ago. I couldn't do the same to her.

Taking one last look around my room, tears streaming down my face, I said my silent goodbyes. In my mother's room, I inhaled her familiar comforting scent one last time. Leaving her a note on her neatly made bed, I tried to gather my courage. "I'm sorry, mom, but I think this is the best thing for me. I love you, and you will always be in my heart," I whispered, stepping onto the train heading south, into an uncertain future..

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