Chapter 3 - Pregnant

Marietta’s POV

“Congratulations, Mrs. Lockhart,” the doctor said with a warm smile, extending a white envelope toward me. “You are two weeks pregnant.”

My fingers trembled as I took the envelope, my heart slamming against my ribs. “No, no, no. This must be a mistake,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Are you sure? Could I have been misdiagnosed?”

The doctor remained calm, folding his hands over his desk. “A mistake? The blood samples clearly match yours,” he stated, then hesitated. “But well, you might be correct. It does happen occasionally.”

I exhaled in relief. Maybe this was all some cruel misunderstanding.

“I’ll have one of my most efficient staff members re-run the test. She will take another blood sample. Is that okay?” he asked.

I nodded hastily. “Yes, please.”

“Very well then. You can wait in the lab,” he instructed.

Minutes later, a nurse approached with a sealed test report.

“I supervised this myself,” she said, her tone firm as she handed it to me before walking away.

My breath caught in my throat as I opened the envelope with shaking hands.

Positive.

The word screamed at me from the paper, confirming my worst fear.

“What the hell?” I gasped, feeling my chest tighten. “I’m really—?” My voice broke as I choked on the words, my emotions spiraling out of control.

Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks. Fear gripped me.

I can’t abort this child. I know Michael doesn’t love me anymore.

But to me, this baby is life. I can’t let go.

Am I making the right decision?

Wiping my tears quickly, I forced myself to stand. People were beginning to stare.

“I need to tell Michael. He has a right to know.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I rushed out of the hospital, heading straight for Katty’s ward.

Michael had been visiting her every day since she lost her child. He hadn’t been home in weeks.

Upon arrival, a nurse directed me to Katty’s room. But before I could enter, I was stopped by two towering bodyguards.

“The boss has ordered us not to allow anyone inside,” the leader stated firmly.

“Even me?” My voice wavered.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

I swallowed my pride and pleaded, “Please, I just want to see Michael. Just for a moment.”

The guards remained stone-faced.

“At least tell him I need to talk to him. It’s urgent,” I begged, my voice cracking.

One of them finally entered the room, only to return minutes later.

“The boss doesn’t want to speak with you,” he said, bowing slightly before leaving.

The words hit me like a slap. My legs wobbled as fresh tears burned my eyes.

I had been calling him for weeks. He never picked up.

I can’t leave America tomorrow without telling him about our baby.

Determined, I took a seat in the lobby. “I’ll wait,” I whispered to myself.

The sky darkened, and a sudden downpour chilled the air. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself. My thin chiffon blouse clung to my skin, turning translucent, but I didn’t care.

Then, finally, the door to Katty’s ward swung open.

Michael stepped out, his face unreadable, his bodyguards forming a wall around him.

I straightened, ready to speak—

But before I could, he raised a hand.

“Do not let her take one step closer to me,” he ordered coldly.

My heart shattered. “Michael, please—”

He ignored me, striding toward his car.

Desperate, I took a step forward, but a guard blocked my path.

“Move. Now!” Michael commanded his driver.

His car sped off, splashing muddy water all over me as I staggered, falling into the mess.

I lay there, stunned, rain mixing with my tears.

“Michael…” I whispered brokenly.

I returned home in a daze.

Tomorrow, I would be gone.

Mechanically, I packed my belongings, folding each piece of clothing with numb fingers.

But one thought kept gnawing at me.

Am I really leaving without telling him? How will I raise this child alone?

Tears pricked my eyes again. “How will I survive?”

I had no money. No one to turn to.

Instinctively, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts. I checked F******k, I*******m, TikTok—anywhere I could find someone who might help.

No one.

Not even Granny Lorette would care.

“I’m all alone.” The words left my lips in a broken whisper.

I slumped onto the bed, my body shaking with silent sobs.

“Siri, set my alarm for 6 a.m.,” I mumbled.

“Your alarm has been set,” came the robotic reply.

And like that, I drifted off to bed.

**************

A loud knock jolted me awake.

I rubbed my swollen eyes, disoriented. Morning already?

The knock came again, urgent, insistent.

“Who is it?” I called, my voice hoarse.

No response.

Sighing, I dragged myself to the door, yawning as I scratched my messy hair. The knocking grew impatient.

“I’m coming!” I snapped.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

My breath caught in my throat.

Michael stood there, his expression dark and stormy, his eyes burning with something I couldn’t decipher.

My heart stuttered.

“Michael?” I gasped, shocked to my core.

He looked furious.

What was he doing here?