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MidReal Story
Enemy to Lovers
Scenario:我爱上了我的敌人，并由他怀孕了。我不确定该如何告诉他这个情况。
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Sophie
She is a dedicated nurse working at Mercy Hospital. She is compassionate, hardworking, and resilient. Sophie was attacked by her exboyfriend, left with physical and emotional scars, and a broken leg. She later met Caleb Reynolds at the hospital where she works. Their intense encounter changed her life forever, resulting in an unexpected pregnancy. Despite the challenges, Sophie is determined to confront Caleb about the situation and find a way to support her unborn child.
Caleb Reynolds
He is a hotshot firefighter with a mysterious past. He is confident, passionate, and enigmatic. Caleb first encounters Sophie at the hospital where he was brought for treatment after a fire incident. Their attraction is immediate and passionate. Despite knowing nothing about Sophie's life or intentions, Caleb becomes deeply entangled with her following their intense encounter. As Sophie reveals her pregnancy, he is faced with the reality of fatherhood and his role in supporting their child.
It started with a bang.
Literally.
My world exploded, and my life changed forever the day my enemy set my apartment on fire.
I didn’t know that then, of course.
All I knew was that one minute I was home alone, and the next thing I knew, flames were licking at my windows, filling my room with suffocating smoke.
Panic set in as I realized I had to get out—and fast.
I grabbed my phone and threw open the door to my balcony, but there was nothing but fire.
The heat was so intense that the glass windows shattered, and the roar of the fire became deafening.
I stumbled backward, disoriented and unable to breathe.
I coughed and coughed as black smoke filled my lungs and poured out of my mouth.
Just when I thought all was lost, I felt a rush of cool air.
Someone had thrown open the door to my balcony on the other side of the building.
A figure appeared in the doorway of my apartment, calling out to me.
With a surge of gratitude, I stumbled toward him.
He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me close as he rushed me out of the apartment and through the hallway to the stairs.
His grip on my waist tightens as we make our way through the thick smoke.
The heat presses against us from all sides, making each breath painful.
I stumble, my legs weak from the smoke I’ve inhaled, but his strong arms keep me upright.
"Trust me," he whispers urgently in my ear.
His breath is warm against my skin, and it gives me a moment of relief from the suffocating air.
I nod, unable to speak.
The smoke stings my eyes, forcing them shut.
He guides me forward, one hand pressed firmly against the wall.
I hear the crackle of flames behind us and feel the building groan under our feet.
My foot catches on something—debris, maybe—and I pitch forward.
He catches me just in time, and together we burst into the open air, leaving the inferno behind.
As we catch our breath outside, I finally get a good look at my rescuer.
He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with a muscular build that speaks to his strength.
The flashing lights of the fire trucks illuminate his features, and I see that he has a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes.
His dark hair is cropped short, revealing a prominent widow’s peak.
He looks like he could be a model or an actor, but there’s something rougher about him too, something that suggests he’s not afraid of hard work.
As we stand there, he turns to me and asks if I’m okay.
I nod, still trying to catch my breath.
He checks me over for any injuries, his hands moving gently over my arms and legs.
His touch is firm but careful, and I can tell that he’s checking for burns or broken bones.
I can’t help but notice how rough his hands are—calloused and worn from years of hard work.
It’s a stark contrast to his handsome face and chiseled physique. As he finishes his examination, emergency responders rush over to us, asking questions and offering medical attention.
My rescuer steps back as they surround me, but I can’t take my eyes off him.
I watch as he turns away from me and walks over to talk to some of the other firefighters.
They’re all wearing heavy coats and helmets, but even under their bulky gear, it’s clear that they’re all in top physical condition.
They must work out every day to maintain such physiques.
As they talk, something falls from the back pocket of my rescuer’s pants and lands on the ground behind him with a soft thud.
It takes me a moment to realize what it is—a worn leather wallet—but by the time I do, everyone else is distracted by the commotion around us. The apartment complex is still ablaze, and people are rushing around trying to put out the fire.
My rescuer is talking to one of the other firefighters, gesturing animatedly as they discuss their next move.
No one seems to have noticed that anything has fallen from his pocket.
My fingers twitch as I think about how much money I need right now.
My bank account is empty after paying all my medical bills this month, and I don’t know how I’m going to afford groceries or rent next month.
I hesitate, glancing at the wallet on the ground, my conscience warring with my desperation.
"Hey," I call out, my voice barely audible over the chaos, "you dropped something."
He turns, his eyes locking onto mine with a mix of surprise and gratitude.