Chapter 10: Goodbye, Bruce
1180 Words
Chapter 10: Goodbye, Bruce
The morning sun filtered gently through the kitchen curtains. Rachel sat at the breakfast table, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her parents were sipping coffee, still groggy from sleep, when she cleared her throat.
Rachel (softly):
“I’ve decided. I’m keeping the baby.”
Kathy’s cup paused mid-air. Edmond looked up from the newspaper.
Rachel (steadier):
“And I’m still going to university. I’ll make it work. I don’t know how yet, but I will.”
Silence filled the kitchen for a moment.
Then Kathy set her cup down and reached for her daughter’s hand.
Kathy:
“Rachel… we’re proud of you. You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll be here. Every step.”
Edmond (nodding):
“We’ll support you, however we can. But…”
He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
Edmond:
“You need to tell Bruce. No matter what he’s done, he has a right to know about the baby. That’s not just your future—it’s his, too.”
Rachel’s jaw clenched. She wanted to scream. To cry. To ask why she had to be the one to chase closure when she’d been the one betrayed.
Rachel (quietly):
"He doesn't have the right Dad!" Rachel stayed in her room the entire day, contemplating what her Dad told her. She still can't accept it.
The next day.
The morning air was quiet, thick with unspoken worries. Rachel sat curled on the living room couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her, though it wasn't cold. Her father, Edmond, stood by the window, watching the leaves fall outside, hands clasped behind his back.
Edmond (calmly):
“Rachel… I know this is hard. But you have to tell him.”
Rachel didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed fixed on a spot on the carpet, lips pressed together in a tight line.
Edmond (soft but firm):
“You didn’t make this baby alone. As much as I hate what he did to you, Bruce has a right to know.”
Rachel (voice cracking):
“He doesn’t deserve to know. Not after what he did… Not after he humiliated me like that in front of everyone.”
She finally looked up, eyes glistening.
Rachel (angrily):
“I gave him everything, Dad. My love. My loyalty. I stood there waiting for him in my wedding dress and he—he said he loved someone else. How am I supposed to face him and say, ‘By the way, I’m pregnant’ like it’s nothing?”
Edmond stepped closer, crouching in front of her. He gently placed a hand over hers.
Edmond:
“I know, sweetheart. I know it hurts. If it were up to me, I’d shield you from every bit of pain this world has to offer. But this isn’t just about Bruce anymore. It’s about your child. That baby has a right to grow up knowing where they came from. And Bruce… even if he’s a coward now, he deserves to know he has a child.”
Rachel shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Rachel:
“I don’t want him to think I’m using the baby to get him back.”
Edmond (gently):
“You’re not. You’re being honest. That’s what good people do.”
Kathy appeared from the kitchen with a soft smile and a mug of tea.
Kathy:
“You’re stronger than you think, honey. You’re already being an incredible mother—making hard decisions for your baby’s future. We trust you. Just do what you feel is right.”
That afternoon, her fingers hovered over her phone. Her stomach churned—not just from the pregnancy, but from nerves.
She typed:
“Bruce, I need to talk to you. It’s important. Can we meet at The Paper Lantern Café at 4?”
She hesitated… then hit send.
The Paper Lantern was their favorite. The place where Bruce had taken her after their first real date. Where he’d kissed her forehead over steaming mugs of cocoa. Where he’d promised, “One day, I’ll bring you here in a white dress.”
Rachel sat in their old booth, looking at the door. She checked her phone every minute. No response. No call.
The minutes bled into an hour. Then two.
Later That Day — Bruce’s Apartment
Bruce was in the shower, steam fogging the mirror. His phone buzzed once, then again. It lay on the kitchen counter, screen lighting up with Rachel’s message.
Amanda walked in wearing one of Bruce’s shirts, her hair wet, a towel draped over her shoulder. She glanced toward the bathroom, then at the phone.
The name Rachel glowed on the screen.
Amanda (whispering):
“Oh, you’re still trying. Poor thing.”
She picked up the phone and read the message. Her lips curled into a venomous smirk.
Amanda:
“We don’t need you anymore.”
She swiped the notification away and opened the message, tapping the trash icon.
Amanda (softly):
“Goodbye, little ghost.”
She made sure to clear the chat history, leaving no trace. The phone buzzed again—probably Jennie, probably worry—but Amanda placed it face down and walked toward the mirror, humming.
By the time Bruce stepped out in a fresh shirt and towel-dried hair, she was sitting on the couch with a smile.
Bruce (grabbing his phone):
“Anyone message me?”
Amanda sipped her drink casually.
Amanda (innocently):
“Nope. Just work stuff.”
At the Café, That Evening
Rachel sat alone in their usual booth, the scent of cocoa in the air, her fingers tracing the rim of her untouched cup. Every time the bell on the door rang, she looked up with a flicker of hope.
But it was never Bruce.
The sky darkened. Her cocoa went cold.
Her heart sank lower with every passing minute.
She stared at her phone. No replies. No missed calls.
Rachel (to herself):
“You got my message. And you didn’t care.”
She stood, sliding her phone into her bag, holding her belly protectively.
Rachel (resolute):
“This is your answer, Bruce. Goodbye.”
And with that, she left, each step away from the café a step closer to her new life—and away from the boy who once promised her forever.
At sunset, she finally stood.
The cup of cocoa before her had gone cold. Her heart, colder.
She walked out in silence, her arms wrapped around herself. She didn’t see Bruce’s car.
Back home, her parents were waiting.
Kathy:
“How did it go?”
Rachel shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rachel:
“He didn’t come. I guess… that’s my answer.”
Edmond’s eyes narrowed. “Coward.”
Rachel just smiled sadly.
Rachel (softly):
“It’s okay. I don’t need him. Not anymore. I’m not doing this for him… I’m doing it for me. And for this little life growing inside me.”
She placed her hand over her stomach.
Rachel (to herself):
“Goodbye, Bruce. I loved you once. But now, I love someone else more. And they deserve everything.”
- Writer
