I was so thrilled to reveal our pear-sized growing baby to my boyfriend, thinking he would be delighted with a surprise party and the ultrasound images. Instead, he threw me out of his house and the last person I imagined was right there for me.
The doorbell’s bright chime disrupted my excited anticipation. I smoothed the baby blue tablecloth and set down the ultrasound scans on the coffee table, displaying them proudly. After four months, Miles was returning from pursuing his football dreams.
He was coming home to a surprise. As he entered, sweat-streaked and weary, his eyes fixed on the swell beneath my dress. I was pregnant, but my excited anticipation faded under his intense gaze.
“Miles, we’re having a baby,” I stated, my voice wavering.
“I never wanted to be a father, Bella,” he scoffed. “You’re ruining everything!
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Suddenly, I noticed his friend, Dave, standing right behind him. He spoke up from the doorway. “Stop yelling at her, man.”
“This is none of your business, Dave!” Miles snapped back and slammed the door in his friend’s face.
I clutched my belly protectively as tears blurred my vision. “I want this child, Miles. It’s part of us,” I insisted.
“I can’t deal with a baby now, Annabelle. It’s your problem if you keep it,” he shook his head.
“But I thought you loved me,” I whispered.
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“That’s not enough. Love doesn’t win championships,” he retorted. “It’s the baby or me. You choose.”
“I won’t give up our child,” I declared, strength rising within me.
“Then leave my house—and my life!” he demanded, his eyes unyielding.
With a protective resolve for my unborn child, I packed my things and left, knowing I could never choose Miles over this new life.
Snowflakes spiraled under the streetlamp’s glow as I struggled with disbelief. Miles’ betrayal echoed in my mind, shattering my dreams for the future. I sat on a snow-draped step, cradling my belly, feeling utterly alone.
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Echoes of my lonely past – growing up in an orphanage and never making familial connections – loomed over me. But out of nowhere, Dave appeared, his concern etched in the snow-melted paths on his face.
“Annabelle, come with me until you figure things out,” he offered, kneeling to look into my eyes.
I hesitated, pride warring with desperation. “I can’t, Dave. I don’t want your pity.”
His earnest plea broke through my resolve as a sudden pain clenched my abdomen. “You need a safe place. Let’s go,” Dave insisted.
Reluctantly, I acquiesced, guided more by necessity than choice, and we drove through the blizzard to his cozy, cluttered home. It was such a different atmosphere than what I’d known with Miles, filled with warmth and haphazard charm.
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Mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves spoke of a life well-lived.
“Thank you,” I murmured, grateful yet overwhelmed.
While I settled in, Dave fumbled with hospitality, offering me food and insisting on my comfort. Dinner was simple but nurturing, and it brought a semblance of peace. But when Dave told me he was sleeping on the couch, I had to protest.
“I’m not a burden, Dave. You should be comfortable in your own home,” I shook my head.
“It’s fine, Annabelle. Rest now. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.”
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***
I lay in Dave’s guest room, struggling against the haunting memory of Miles’ indifferent gaze. Sleep eventually claimed me after several hours of sifting through painful thoughts and tears.
A week later, the rhythm of life with Dave brought a semblance of normalcy. He was ever considerate, his kindness so different from what I knew with my ex. However, I had to fend for myself.
One crisp morning, after Dave left for work, I slipped out with a heavy heart. I’d taken a supermarket delivery job, so I wouldn’t burden him with more of my troubles.
But the job proved harder than I imagined. Trudging through the snow, the weight of groceries, and my growing discomfort only made things harder. Also, I should’ve known Dave would try to find me.
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Suddenly, his car pulled alongside me on a busy sidewalk. His expression was full of worry and astonishment.
“Annabelle, why are you working like this?” he asked.
Trying to downplay my efforts, I mentioned needing the job for my prenatal needs. Dave frowned and shook his head angrily, but I know it stemmed from care and concern.
“I can’t just sit around, Dave. I need to prepare for the baby,” I continued, my resolve firm.
He sighed, leading me to the back of his car. “Let me show you something,” he said, opening the trunk and revealing a collection of maternity essentials. I began crying, overwhelmed by his thoughtful preparation.
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“Why all this, Dave?” I inquired through the tears.
“It’s for you and the little one,” he said with a heartfelt smile. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Annabelle.”
His words and actions, so full of unconditional support, deepened my gratitude. Hugging him, I whispered, “You’ll make a great dad someday, too.”
Still, I was still hesitant. Accepting even more from Dave seemed wrong. But he proposed a trade-off: my cooking for his support. He also joked and teased me, and that light-hearted banter eased the tension in my body and heart.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I laughed genuinely. Over the next few days, our pact became a beautiful routine at his house. I found solace in the simple acts of kindness he showered upon me.
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At the supermarket, I resolved to leave my job. I could afford to, at least for now, thanks to Dave’s support. And as time passed, our connection deepened.
Dave’s gentle presence became a constant in my life. His care was evident in every gesture, from tying my shoes to surprising me with thoughtful gifts.
One day, as he felt the baby kick, the joy in his eyes sparked a realization in me: I was falling in love with him. But fear crept in, overshadowing my newfound happiness. Could someone like Dave truly love a soon-to-be single mother with a complicated past?
These thoughts haunted me, and I wrestled with the idea of confessing my feelings, fearful of risking the precious bond we’d built.
***
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During a routine chicken casserole night, Dave arrived from work, smiling tiredly. “Smells incredible,” he complimented, placing some tulips on the table.
As we ate, he praised the meal. “Annabelle, this is phenomenal. Reminds me of my mom’s cooking.”
I felt warmth running through my body at his words. So, as we talked, our shared memories made me bold. “I’m so glad you liked it, honey,” I said, immediately regretting the slip.
Dave’s reaction was immediate: his smile faltered. Our pleasant moment was shattered, and I panicked. “Dave? I… it’s just pregnancy brain, I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to lighten the mood.
He attempted a grin again but stood from the table. “Delicious, as always. Thanks,” he said, leaving the room abruptly.
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The following days were filled with awkward silences. Dave’s behavior changed; he left early and returned late. His greetings were brief, and his eyes always avoided mine.
One afternoon, I was curled up on the couch, lost in a sea of worry and self-loathing, when a sharp electronic chime shattered the oppressive silence.
It was a voicemail notification on Dave’s phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table.
A woman’s voice, professional and polite, filled the room. “Mr. Evans, this is a reminder that the documents for your new apartment are ready for pick-up at your convenience.”
The message struck like a blow, sinking my heart. Dave was planning to move. Heartbroken, I realized I couldn’t stay, not as a reminder of a complicated situation he wanted to escape.
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So, I decided to go, my heart even heavier than when I tried to leave before. “We have each other, my little boy,” I whispered to my belly, preparing to face the world alone as I packed.
Before I could leave, though, the blare of the doorbell made my entire body jerk. For a second, I thought it was Dave, but I opened the door to see Miles, who sneered at my pregnant form. His first words dripped with disdain. “Motherhood’s added a few pounds, huh?”
“What do you want, Miles?” I asked, my voice sharp.
He breezed past, dismissing my anger with a smirk. “Just checking on you and my bachelor buddy’s hospitality,” he said, his tone patronizing.
His audacity stunned me. “Get out,” I demanded.
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He ignored my command, finally getting to the point. “Let’s be a family, Annabelle. Think of the publicity for me, the ‘devoted dad.’”
Publicity? For his football career? Was he insane? He wanted to use our child for his gain! Revolted, I pushed him away, condemning his monstrous selfishness.
Miles laughed. “What are you going to do without me? You think Dave took you in because he loved you? Cared about you and your baggage? You were just another project, a chance to play hero. A charity case, not his ladylove.”
For a second, I considered his words, my thoughts warring in my head. But a sudden pain, sharp and unavoidable, distracted me. A few beats later, liquid splashed on the floor.
“My water broke, Miles,” I gasped, panic setting in as another contraction hit.
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His reaction shifted from mockery to horror. “The baby’s coming?” he asked, staggering back in disbelief.
As pain overwhelmed me, Miles fainted, and darkness edged my vision. But during the chaos, Dave’s voice reached me, like a knight ready to save the princess.
“Annabelle? Are you alright?” Dave asked, worriedly taking my hand. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“I… I’m so sorry, Dave,” I stammered, tears blurring my vision further. “For everything. For intruding into your life, for making you take care of me all these months. I know… about the new apartment. You were moving out because of me.”
Dave frowned and then, sighed, exasperated. “You’ve got it all wrong. The apartment is for us, Annabelle,” he explained. “It has a nursery for our baby. I love you.”
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Another sharp pain overtook my body before I could gush over his confession. Dave scooped me in his arms and put me in his car, not even caring that Miles was still unconscious on his tiled floor.
The drive to the hospital was full of agony and anticipation. Our baby boy Matthew’s arrival was a chorus of cries and relief, but it marked the beginning of our new journey, one full of love.
Years later, with the birth of our daughter Hope, our family became complete. Dave’s unwavering passion and protectiveness turned past pains into distant memories I never thought about again.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
While a pregnant Annabelle found true love after being kicked out by her boyfriend, in another corner of the world, Megan found her special someone after her husband David left her. He not only fat-shamed his devoted wife but also dumped her for another woman. Here’s the full story.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
All Three of Brad Pitt’s Daughters, Zahara, Vivienne, & Shiloh, Have Changed Their Names
Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s daughters, Zahara, Vivienne, and Shiloh, made headlines recently as it was revealed that they have adopted new names. This decision to change their names garnered significant reactions among fans and followers of the Hollywood star and his family.
Zahara Seemingly Drops Last Name
Zahara Jolie-Pitt, the eldest daughter of Hollywood’s former power couple Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, has embarked on a new chapter in her life as an official member of the Alpha Kappa Alpha organization at Spelman College in Atlanta. This has also come with a notable drop of the name “Pitt.”
In a captivating video shared by Essence, Zahara’s infectious energy and enthusiasm were on full display as she introduced herself during her sorority’s probate.
Dressed in a stylish black midi dress, gloves, and pearls, she proudly declared, “My name is Zahara Marley Jolie, coming all the way from the Golden State in the city that is full of angels, Los Angeles, California. I am this line’s number seven.”
Fans expressed their thoughts regarding the missing “Pitt” from her name during this significant moment. One commenter expressed disappointment, noting, “That’s a shame seeing as how life could have been different for her, and he played a part in changing her life for the better.” Another fan questioned the scrutiny aimed at Brad, asking, “Why are they giving Brad such a hard time?”
Another comment urged caution, stating, “I just hope this young lady is making decisions based on her own reality because to reject a parent is a BIG DEAL and should not be influenced by other people’s experiences or recollections.”
As she begins this new chapter in her life, it’s clear that Zahara’s name choice is eliciting thoughtful reflections on the complexities of family dynamics after her parents’ divorce.
Vivienne Changes Name Amid Parents’ Legal Feud — Report
Vivienne Jolie-Pitt is one of the twins of Angelina and Brad. When the twins were born in 2008, Brad was “very pleased to be at the birth of his children, very moved and very emotional,” said OB/GYN Dr. Michel Sussman.
Now 15, Vivienne is exploring her artistic side with her mom’s strong support. According to People, the Playbill for the musical “The Outsiders” lists her as “Vivienne Jolie,” notably without “Pitt.” This name change marks a significant step in Vivienne’s evolving public identity.
In the musical, Vivienne Jolie works as a production assistant, and her mother, Angelina, is the producer. She often joins her mom during the musical’s promotional tour.
In a recent appearance on “Today,” she was spotted watching Angelina from the crowd. Reflecting on her daughter’s role in the musical, Angelina shared that Vivienne’s enthusiasm for the project is driven by its focus on family.
The veteran actress said, “And the same reason it responded to her, the same reason she wanted me next to her watching it, the same reason we all hugged when I came out here is because this is about family and it’s about community…”
Before the promotional tour, the mother-daughter pair were spotted attending the musical’s preview in New York City. This rare outing marked a significant public appearance for Vivienne, her first since 2021, drawing attention from fans and media alike.
Vivienne’s reported name change and recent public appearances highlight the evolving dynamics of the Jolie-Pitt family, especially after a third child, Shiloh, chose to follow in the footsteps of Zahara and Vivienne.
Shiloh Jolie-Pitt Turned 18 and Unveiled Her New Moniker
Shiloh Jolie-Pitt, who turned 18 on May 27, has filed legal documents to drop her father Brad’s surname and use her mother, Angelina’s surname. She now wishes to be known simply as “Shiloh Jolie,” making this one of her first actions as an adult.
TMZ recently reported that Shiloh filed the paperwork on Memorial Day, which coincided with her birthday. The request for the name change has yet to be officially granted, but it is expected to be a matter of time before it becomes official.
Shiloh’s decision follows a trend within the family, as her sisters, Vivienne and Zahara, have also reportedly omitted “Pitt” on separate occasions. These changes in the children’s names come amid court documents suggesting Angelina may have influenced their strained relationship with Brad.
Recent claims against the actress surfaced through a statement from Tony Webb, owner of SRS Global, a security company that provided personal protection for Angelina. Webb, employed under Jolie from 2000 to 2020, shared insights from his experience.
“One of the two individuals, Ross Foster, specified that he intended to testify regardless of the NDA if he received a court subpoena,” Webb stated. He further revealed disturbing details about the potential testimony.
“When Mr. Foster told me this, he also told me that if asked, he would testify about statements he overheard that Ms. Jolie made to the children, encouraging them to avoid spending time with Mr. Pitt during custody visits,” he claimed.
This revelation sparked a fierce reaction across social media platforms, with many expressing dismay at Angelina. Others showed concern over the potential impact on the Jolie-Pitt children.
“The fact that she cannot see the harm this is doing to their kids is just shocking,” one person commented. This was echoed by another commenter who noted, “It’s probably why Shiloh is moving in with her father now… She’s realized her mother is vindictive and has been trying to alienate them from Brad for years.”
One called Angelina’s alleged move “the worse possible thing a person can do… alienate their children from a parent.” Meanwhile, another declared “Shame on her.”
The debate over Angelina’s actions led some to reflect on the cyclical nature of such behavior, attributing it to her tumultuous upbringing. “Her childhood was similar from what I read. Maybe she can’t break that perpetual cycle or doesn’t want to,” one claimed.
Besides Vivienne, Shiloh, and Zahara, Angelina is a mother to Knox, Pax, and Maddox. She shares all of them with Brad and despite the public’s critical perception, Angelina Jolie has continually strived to embody the role of a nurturing, attentive mother. This is, a commitment deeply rooted in the lessons taught by her own mom, Marcheline Bertrand.
In a candid revelation made back in 2011, Angelina shared insights into her parenting approach, which is heavily influenced by the relationship she cherished with her mother. Angelina emphasized the importance of not just being a parent but also a friend to her children.
She highlighted the invaluable connection she experienced through open communication and shared activities with her mother. This foundation has guided her in fostering a similar bond with her children, ensuring that despite their diverse backgrounds, they feel united as a family.
Remembering her mother’s gentle spirit and unwavering generosity, Angelina aspires to emulate these traits. Her aim is clear: to be as good a mother to her children as her mother was to her.
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