04

Victoria Harper 

My father’s health or my baby’s life?

Daniel never came home that night. His ultimatum echoed in my skull — my father’s life or my baby’s.

I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t. The question that haunted me wasn’t whether to keep the baby. It was how the hell was I even pregnant?

Was there lost time I couldn’t account for? I replayed every moment from the past two months — and none of them included sex with anyone.

My phone buzzed beside me. It was doctor Allen. I almost didn’t pick it up because what more could he have to say. 

Eventually I picked up because of his persistent calls 

“Ms. Harper, Dr. Allen here.” His voice was tight, like someone who had just committed a crime and was dialing 911.

“Yes?”

“I think it’s best if you come down to the hospital,” he said carefully. “There’s been… a development.”

My chest squeezed. “A development?” My voice was sharper than I intended. “What kind of development?”

“I really think you should come in, Ms. Harper. It’s not something I can discuss over the phone.”

I didn’t even bother to argue further. I yanked my coat off the chair, slipped into my shoes, and rushed out the door.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. Every bump in the road rattled through my bones. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Maybe the test was wrong. Maybe I wasn’t pregnant after all. Maybe this was a mistake.

When I pushed open the hospital doors, my chest was heaving. Doctor Allen was waiting, looking pale, like a man who hadn’t slept all night. His eyes shifted nervously when he saw me.

“Ms. Harper,” he greeted, his voice clipped. “Please, come with me.”

I followed him back to his office, the same place I had gotten the news of my pregnancy. 

My hands shook and I didn’t even wait for him to take his seat before I spoke up l. “Doctor Allen, am I pregnant or not? Were the results wrong? Just tell me—I promise I won’t sue.” I blurted, clinging to the last thread of hope.” 

His shoulders slumped. “Ms. Harper. You are still very much pregnant.” He answered watering down my hope

My confusion crashed back, harder than ever. “Then what the hell is this about?”

He rubbed his temple, looking everywhere but at me. “There was… an error during your last visit. A procedural mix-up.”

“What kind of error?” I demanded.

He swallowed, clearly fighting with himself. “Ms. Harper… there was a serious error. Your file was… mistakenly switched with another patient’s during a fertility procedure.”

“What kind of procedure?” I asked slowly, already dreading the answer.

He exhaled shakily. “An insemination

The room spun. My ears rang. I gripped the armrest of the chair to keep from collapsing.

“Insemination?” My voice cracked. “Are you telling me…are you actually telling me you people put someone else’s… someone else’s sample in me without my consent?

Doctor Allen’s face flushed with guilt. “Ms. Harper, I am so sorry. This should never have happened. It was a tragic mistake. We’d cover your medical expenses and keep the information withheld. We urge you not to take legal action.”

I was beyond bewildered. I was carrying the child of some person who I didn’t even know. I didn’t even know how to feel. My head was spinning. What should be my next choice of action? 

I swallowed before I spoke up. “Who owns the sperm that was put in me? Who is the…father of my child” I asked, the words forcefully coming out of my mouth because I never thought I could be in such a situation 

“I already alerted him before you came and he should be right outside” he told me 

My heart was pounding and a sweat fell from my forehead, intercepted by my eyebrows 

“Ms. Harper, I truly am sorry. This was never supposed to happen. It was a terrible mistake. But the donor is here now. If you’re ready, I can introduce you.”

I didn’t trust my voice. I just nodded, every nerve in my body tight.

We stepped out of his office together. My legs felt like they weren’t mine. Every step echoed down the corridor.

And then I saw him.

He stood by the nurse’s station, tall, broad-shouldered, confidence rolling off him like heat. The kind of man who owned every room he entered.

And then he turned.

My stomach flipped.

Those eyes. That smirk. That scar just above his lip.

I knew him.

“Ms. Harper, this is—”

“Christian,” I whispered, my voice shaky from shock 

The moment our eyes locked, every nightmare from high school came roaring back. My bully. My enemy.

Oh fuck!! My chest ached. I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or collapse. 

As if my life wasn’t already difficult enough, my high school bully is the father of my child.