Chapter 5 For the baby

(Amara)

Morning comes, but it brings no relief.

I wake with my chest already tight, the memory of last night pressing down on me like a weight I can’t push off. I don’t think there’s anything left that can truly hurt me after this. Not after knowing they spent the entire night together. In our bedroom.

Can you imagine that?

Felix and Selina, tangled up in the same sheets I once believed held only us, while I curled up on the couch like a stranger in my own home. I didn’t hear a sound from them. No footsteps. No awkward silence. Nothing. As though I don’t exist at all.

The bedroom door stays shut this morning, untouched, unvisited. I refuse to go near it. I won’t. Not like this. Not knowing she’s still in there, probably wrapped in his arms, breathing him in, enjoying the warmth that used to be mine.

The thought slips in without permission. The way Felix holds me when I can’t sleep. His arms firm, protective, pulling me closer like the world can’t touch me when I’m there.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

This is insane. I shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not when he’s already chosen. Not when another woman is right there with him, filling the space I used to occupy so easily.

All I want now is for this pregnancy to be over. To give birth, hand over the baby, and leave. Just leave. Her presence keeps spreading into every corner of my life, poisoning things I once loved.

I go to the kitchen, needing movement, needing distraction. I make myself breakfast even though my stomach twists at the smell. Eating feels pointless, but it gives my hands something to do. Something to focus on while my thoughts threaten to drown me.

I’m halfway through forcing down a bite when a voice cuts through the air.

“Looks delicious. I’d like to have some too.”

I look up.

Selina stands there, glowing. Bright. Peaceful. As if she hasn’t shattered my world just by existing in my space.

As if she isn’t ruining my life.

My eyes drop to her stomach before I can stop myself. Then back to my plate. I don’t say a word. I push my chair back and stand, the scrape against the floor loud in the quiet space. I lift my plate, ready to leave.

Her hand shoots out.

She grabs my wrist.

“I know I said I wouldn’t spend the night,” she says softly, her voice delicate, apologetic. “But I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”

I jerk my hand free, stunned by her touch. By her audacity.

As if that wasn’t exactly what she wanted.

She keeps going, her voice dropping lower, almost dreamy. “The bed was so warm. And with Felix beside me all night, it felt so comforting. So assuring.”

Something ugly twists in my chest.

“Don’t get used to it,” I say sharply. “You’re leaving after you give birth. So don’t start pretending—”

“I know, Amara,” she cuts in gently. “It’s what I wished for too.”

I laugh, short and bitter. “Wished for? That’s what’s going to happen.”

She smiles but doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for my plate. “Let me help you take it to the kitchen.”

I pull it back. “No.”

She insists, her fingers tightening around the edge. I refuse to let go. We tug at it from opposite sides, silent tension crackling between us.

Then it slips.

The plate shatters against the floor.

Selina screams.

I freeze.

Blood. Red and sudden, streaking down her hand. My heart slams against my ribs, confusion and fear tangling together.

Before I can move, Felix rushes in.

He shoves me aside with a force I’ve never felt from him before. I stumble back, barely catching myself. He doesn’t look at me. Not once.

He cradles Selina’s hands like they’re made of glass. “What happened?” His voice shakes. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s not Amara’s fault,” Selina says immediately, wincing. “I should’ve listened to her. I shouldn’t have tried to take her plate.”

Felix turns on me.

The look on his face isn’t anger. It’s disbelief. Accusation. Like I’ve crossed a line he never imagined I could.

“I can’t believe you, Amara,” he says. “Trying to hurt her now?”

My lips tremble. “I didn’t. I swear. I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t?” His laugh is sharp, cutting. “So you expect me to believe Selina would hurt herself on purpose?”

The words land like a slap.

Selina touches his arm gently. “Please don’t be angry. It really wasn’t her fault.” Her tone is calm, forgiving, almost saintly. Like she’s the one holding the strings, guiding the scene.

Felix softens instantly. “Come on. Let’s treat your hands first.”

He leads her to the couch, already rushing to get the first aid box.

I stand there alone.

Then pain flares.

A strange heat pulses near my foot. I look down.

Blood pools beside it.

I must have stepped on a shard when he shoved me.

He didn’t notice.

He didn’t care.

I leave quietly and retreat to one of the guest rooms. I pull out the small first aid kit and clean the wound myself. The antiseptic stings, sharp and unforgiving.

It feels like betrayal.

******

Evening drags itself in slowly.

I move around the house just to feel something. Fresh air. Space. Anything. Felix took Selina out, saying she had cravings. Saying it’s what the baby wants.

And I’m left behind.

Alone.

Every time I try to speak, to question, the answer is always the same. It’s for the baby.

My phone lights up.

Once. Twice. Again.

I stop walking.

Alerts.

Transactions.

My chest tightens as I stare at the screen. Large sums withdrawn from our joint account. Over and over again. Thousands. It feels unreal, like watching my life drain away in numbers.

What exactly did she crave? The whole world?

I dial Felix immediately.

It rings.

Once. Twice. Three times.

He doesn’t answer.

Felix never lets my calls ring like this. He always picks up. Always.

My thoughts spiral. What if something happened?

No. No.

The front door opens.

I limp toward it despite the pain in my foot.

Felix steps in, arms full of shopping bags. Selina follows, excited, despite acting like her world was crumbling moments ago from the cut in her palm, her other hand resting on her bump like a prize she’s showing off.

“I called,” I say quietly.

Felix pauses. “Oh really?” He pats his pockets, frowning. “I didn’t see it.”

“Oh, I had his phone,” Selina chirps. “I asked him to d******d some games for me. I was too invested to let it go.”

“You had no right,” I say, my voice trembling, “to decide that.”

“That’s enough, Amara,” Felix snaps. “No need to argue. We’re home now.”

He turns to walk away.

“Felix,” I stop him. “I saw the transactions. What were they for?”

He scoffs. “Do I need to report to you now?”

“Felix,” my voice cracks. “You spent thousands from our savings. Years of my hard work. Money I saved for our future family.”

Selina’s voice slides in smoothly. “It was for the future family.”

I stare at her. “What?”

“We shopped for the baby,” she says sweetly. “So many cute things. It’s a pity you couldn’t join.”

A laugh escapes me, hollow and sharp. “You must be joking. We went shopping yesterday, right before the hospital. I’ve paid for the nursery. Contractors are coming. So tell me, what exactly was the need for more? Another craving?”

My voice rises despite myself. “Do you think I work this hard just to waste money?”

Felix’s eyes darken. “Are you saying our child’s needs aren’t important?”

I close my eyes, then open them. There it is again. The twisting of my words.

“Or are you trying to measure who makes more money here?” he adds.

My jaw drops.

I sacrificed everything for this man. My family. My name. My comfort. I worked multiple jobs to keep us afloat.

And this is what he thinks of me?

Silence stretches between us.

Then he turns away. “Come on, Selina.”

They leave together, shopping bags swinging, laughter following them down the hall.

*******

Hours later, I force myself to stand.

I make tea. Raspberry leaf tea. I’d read somewhere that it’s good for pregnant women.

For the baby. Not for her. I can hate her and still do this for the child.

I carry it to Selina’s room, my steps slow, careful. I reach for the doorknob.

Her voice floats out, light and amused.

“She’s such a fool,” Selina laughs into the phone. “She really thinks I’ll hand over my baby. I’m just pretending to be sweet. Once they’re fully broken, Felix will leave her. And he’ll never know the child isn’t even his.”

The cup trembles in my hand.

My fingers shake so hard the tea spills dangerously close to the edge.

She turns.

Our eyes meet.

The world stops.