“I don’t care what anyone says,” I whispered into the empty room, hugging my knees to my chest. “Nobody should blame me for what I’m going through.”The silence answered me back, cold and still. I wasn’t talking to anyone, but saying it aloud made it feel like someone might finally understand.“I had sex with a man I met for the first time,” I said again, louder this time. “And I don’t regret it.”I paused, letting the weight of my own confession settle in the air.“Do you even know what it means to be married for two whole years and never enjoy sex? Two years!” I stood up suddenly, pacing the room barefoot, my voice rising with each step. “I was supposed to be a wife, not a statue. I felt nothing. Just cold sheets and fake moans. Nothing real.”I stopped by the window, staring out at the dark sky. A soft wind blew against the glass, like the world outside was listening to me.“But that one night… that one moment with someone I barely knew… it felt different,” I whispered, voice crack
“I Think I Know Who the Father Is…”“I’m sorry, what did you say?” My boss's voice snapped me back to reality.I blinked, realizing I must’ve said something out loud without knowing. “It’s nothing,” I said quickly, forcing a weak smile. It didn’t even touch my lips, let alone my heart. “I’ve just been… tired.”He leaned forward across his desk, his brows creased with concern. “You’ve missed two deadlines this week, and the last proposal you submitted ended on page two. That’s not you, Melinda,”I looked down at my hands resting in my lap, fingers nervously twisting the ring I no longer wore. “It won’t happen again,” I muttered.There was a pause.Then a soft sigh. “Look, if you need a few days—take them. Seriously. I’d rather have you back focused than burnt out and struggling.”I nodded once, barely hearing the words. “Thanks,” I murmured, standing up like a puppet being pulled by strings. “I’ll be fine.”“Just remember, you don’t have to carry everything alone,” he said as I turned
My eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as the dim light from the hallway flickered across the wall—like a ghost creeping in and out of my thoughts. My heart beat in uneven rhythms, like it was trying to keep pace with my fears. The air in the room felt heavy, thick, and cruel. I pulled the blanket tighter around my body, hoping to find comfort, but nothing—absolutely nothing—could warm the coldness inside me.How do you even breathe again when you’re trying to run from your painful past, but life isn’t done with you yet?I didn’t mean to cry again.But the moment I looked at the test result, the tears broke loose—like water crashing through a dam.Pregnant.Just one word. Eight letters. But it cracked something deep inside me.I sat at the edge of the bed, gripping the paper so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My body felt distant, like it didn’t belong to me anymore—numb, trembling, and cold, even though the fan was off and every window was shut.“No,” I whispered. “This can’t b
The doctor’s lips pressed together, and somehow, I found myself holding my breath too. His eyes stayed fixed on the result in his hand, and his expression didn’t help the tight knot forming in my chest.My heart was pounding, but I sat still, trying not to panic.He looked up slowly, his face unreadable.“The result is out,” he said.I gave him a nervous nod. My fingers curled tightly around my handbag resting on my lap.He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Miss Melinda… according to the test result, you’re pregnant.”I blinked at him.“Pregnant?” I repeated, like I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly.“Yes,” he replied gently.I just stared at him. My lips parted, but no words came out. I didn’t even know what I was feeling. My chest felt heavy, like someone had just dropped a rock inside it.The doctor tilted his head. “Miss, are you alright?”I nodded too quickly. “Yes, I’m… I’m fine.” I paused, then asked in a small voice, “Please… how long?”He glanced at the paper again. “You’re
I didn’t sleep a wink.My eyes were open the whole night, staring into the darkness, praying that Google had lied to me.Every time I blinked, I saw the search results again.“Can stress course fatigue. Dizziness. Sore breasts. Nausea.”The words danced in my brain like neon signs, refusing to fade. I shut my eyes tight, wishing I could shut my mind too.“It’s just stress,” I whispered for the hundredth time, hugging my pillow like it could save me. “It has to be.”I could still hear the faint humming of the fridge in the kitchen, the ticking wall clock above the wardrobe, and the restless sighs I released every five minutes. Time didn’t move. Neither did I.The weeks had been brutal—late nights, tight deadlines, no rest. That had to be the reason I felt like this. Not… not what Google suggested.No, it couldn't be that.By morning, my head was heavy, my stomach twisted, but I got up anyway. The alarm buzzed half-heartedly beside me, but I was already sitting up. I had been up all nig
I had already given up when the email popped in like a surprise guest I didn’t invite.I sat there, slouched on the edge of the bed, half-heartedly scrolling through job sites for the hundredth time that week, when the notification buzzed.I blinked at the screen, mouth half-open. “Wait… what?”I leaned forward, heart thumping just a little. Maybe I was imagining things. I read it again, just to be sure.Congratulations, you’ve been shortlisted for an interview.I stared. For a few seconds, I just sat there frozen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. My eyes didn’t blink. My mind had gone blank.“Okay… This has to be a mistake,” I muttered aloud, grabbing my phone from the charger like it could give me answers. I scrolled through my sent emails, tapping each one like I was retracing my own steps. I had applied, yes, I remembered sending it in—just two days ago. But I hadn’t heard anything since then.Two days of silence had convinced me I’d been ignored. Again. Just like all the oth