Two Pink Lines

**Anna’s POV**

I didn't even remember starting the car. The drive to my mother's house was just a blur of neon traffic lights and a suffocating silence.

The moment I slammed my bedroom door and turned the key in the lock, an uncontrollable sob escaped me. I threw my graduation cap to the floor, then collapsed onto the edge of the bed, my chest compressed by the pain.

Four years. Four years of loving him in secret. Shivering under his gaze. Trembling at his slightest touch. And this was what he reduced me to.

A mistake. A simple mistake caused by tequila.

I had loved him in secret for so long that this love felt almost like a part of me. Every stolen glance, every touch had made me wonder, for years, if he felt the same way.

And then, there had been that night.

I buried my face in my hands, letting out a broken sob as the memories washed over me again. The warmth of his hands on my skin. His bated breath when he kissed my neck. The way he looked at me in the dark, with a desperate tenderness, murmuring my first name as if I were the only thing holding him to this world.

I had thought it was real.

He had told me there was no turning back.

"I'm getting engaged soon. She's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with."

The memory of his voice brought another burning tear sliding down my cheek.

He had never loved me. He had never been overwhelmed by years of pent-up feelings.

For the next fourteen days, I clung to a routine of survival. I tried to smother the emptiness in my chest by multiplying distractions and keeping silent, convinced that if I kept busy enough, the pain of his betrayal would eventually fade until I felt nothing at all.

Then came Tuesday morning.

I was in the kitchen, still a bit groggy, buttering a slice of sandwich bread while my mother bustled around next to me, when the smell of frying bacon hit my nose.

My stomach turned instantly.

A wave of nausea rushed up my throat. I dropped the butter knife onto the counter, clapped a hand over my mouth, and dashed down the hallway. I barely made it to the bathroom before dropping to my knees and vomiting violently into the toilet bowl.

I slumped back against the cold tile, catching my breath, sweat beading at the roots of my hair.

My hand instinctively rested on my stomach, and a sudden, terrifying calculation flashed through my mind.

I was two weeks late.

I hurriedly grabbed my keys and drove to a pharmacy two towns over.

I paid cash for a box containing two pregnancy tests, slid it under my passenger seat, and drove straight home.

Once locked in the bathroom, the silence was deafening as I waited out the agonizing three minutes.

"Please..." I murmured to the empty room, my voice trembling. "Please, just let there be one line."

I picked up the test.

Two dark pink lines stared back at me.

My hands were shaking so hard the plastic stick clattered against the porcelain sink.

"No. No, no, no..."

I immediately ripped open the second package and started over. Three minutes later, the result was exacty the same.

I sat down heavily on the edge of the tub and pulled my knees against my chest.

This couldn't be happening. This...

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling my chest tighten as if it were about to burst.

Mom was going to kill me. She was actually going to kill me.

What was I going to do?

A knock sounded at the door.

"Anna!" My mother's voice echoed down the hallway. "We need to talk."

Panic knotted my throat. I shoved both tests into the pocket of my jeans, flushed the toilet to cover any noise, and wiped a cold towel across my face before opening the door.

My mother stood on the threshold, wearing an immaculate silk blouse and holding a stack of interior design magazines. She noticed nothing unusual.

"Anna, your room needs to be cleared out by the end of the week. Richard and I are finalizing the paperwork for the house. His daughter is moving in, and she'll be taking the upstairs bedroom to use as her studio."

I stared at her, my eyes swimming with tears, unable to react.

"What?"

"You're an adult now," she replied without a shred of warmth. "You've graduated. It's time you found an apartment or moved into the campus dorms. Richard is funding the kitchen remodel and, frankly, I have no desire to keep living in a cluttered house."

I grabbed her hand before she could pull away.

"Mom, you can't do this to me. I have nowhere to..."

She yanked her hand back abruptly.

"That's your problem, Anna. I've done enough. I've fulfilled my role as a mother. If your father wants to keep taking care of you, that's up to him."

She paused, then added in a glacial tone:

"Oh, right. You can't even reach him."

She turned on her heel and walked down the hall, leaving me on the threshold with the door wide open.

I backed up until I hit the edge of the bed, then sat down without even realizing it.

I was pregnant. Broke, and soon to be homeless.

My chest tightened painfully.

What was I supposed to do?

Anthony had used me before tossing me aside like I meant nothing. My mother was kicking me out to make room for her new life. I had no home left, no partner, and a baby growing inside me.

But they would only win if I let them break me completely.

I stood up, threw the tests deep into the trash can, pulled two large suitcases out of the closet, and set them on the bed.

I gathered everything that mattered to me, then opened my banking app on my phone. Between my savings from tutoring and the small trust fund my grandmother had left me, I had exactly $10,240.

Two hours later, I drove my sedan to a quick-cash car dealership not far away. I signed the title transfer papers and walked away with $2,500 in cash. Then I took a cab straight to the airport.

Standing near the boarding gate amid a stream of international travelers, I removed the SIM card from my phone, snapped it in half, and tossed the pieces into a trash can.

I looked up at the departures board.

My one-way flight to Milan would be boarding soon.

Nobody wanted me here, and I had no intention of coming back.