You Heard Me

TWO WEEKS LATER. AVA.

Campus Dorm.

I kept telling myself, today is the day. Over and over, like a mantra I didn’t believe but desperately needed to. Two weeks had passed since I made the decision— since I swore to myself I would tell Tony about the pregnancy. Two weeks of rehearsing words in my head, two weeks of imagining his reaction, two weeks of failing to even get the chance of getting close to him to try. He wasn’t the kind of person you could just get access to. He was Tony Blackwood— the heir, the celebrity boy. And me? Just another student, invisible in the crowd.

But today felt different. Today, the school was alive with celebration. The 98th anniversary of Blackwood Institute had turned the campus into a carnival of laughter, music, and mingling. For once, the invisible lines of social class seemed blurred. Students from every background walked side by side, smiling, cheering, clapping. It was as if the air itself had been painted with joy.

And yet, inside me, there was no joy. Only the weight of the child growing in my belly. A secret pressing against my ribs, demanding to be spoken. He doesn’t know. He has to know.

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My face looked pale, my eyes too wide, my lips trembling. I adjusted my hair, smoothed my dress, checked again and again as if perfection would give me courage. You look fine. You look fine. Stop checking. Just go.

I dropped the mirror by the window and turned. Sarah was sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone. Our eyes met for a second. Her expression was the same as always— silent disgust, a look that said she wished I wasn’t there. I still didn’t know why she hated me so much.

I broke the gaze, walked to the door, and left without a word. I didn’t bother telling her where I was heading to. She wouldn’t care anyways.

The walk to the conference hall felt endless. My feet dragged, heavy with dread, but the tide of students carried me forward. Everyone was heading the same way, laughter spilling into the air, voices echoing against the walls of the grand building.

Thirty minutes into the event, I was seated among the sea of five thousand students. The hall was magnificent— lights glittering, banners swaying, dignitaries lined up at the podium. Professors, guest lecturers, global figures, all gathered to honor the legacy of the Blackwoods.

And there he was. Tony. Sitting with his family, his siblings, his parents. The Blackwoods themselves, royalty in this kingdom of academia. My eyes locked on him, refusing to let go. He was on his phone, barely paying attention, his posture relaxed, his presence commanding even in disinterest.

My heart hammered against my chest. This is it. This is your chance. If not today, you might not get another chance anytime soon.

I imagined his reaction a thousand different ways, when I tell him. Every scenario played in my head, each one worse than the last.

Minutes blurred into an hour. Then I saw him rise, excusing himself, slipping through the backdoor of the stage. My pulse spiked. Go. Now. Don’t think. Just move.

I stood, weaving through the crowd, slipping out through another entrance that led backstage. My eyes darted everywhere, scanning faces, searching for him. Security guards loomed, and fear clawed at me— fear of being stopped, questioned, thrown out.

Then I heard it. Voices. Muffled at first, then clearer as I approached. One of them was his. I would never forget that voice.

I forced myself forward, trembling, fidgeting, my body betraying me. I knocked on the door.

“Yes?” His deep voice rang out.

I turned the handle and stepped inside. Tony was there, lounging on a couch, flanked by two friends. They looked at me like I was an intruder, which I was.

“Can we help you?” one of them asked, his tone sharp.

“I— I’m here to see Tony,” I stammered, my voice breaking.

Their eyebrows shot up, disbelief etched on their faces.

“What?! Who the fuck are you? Who gave you access to this place?” one snapped.

“Easy, Jerry,” Tony said, his gaze fixed on me. “That’s not how you treat a lady. I think I might know this one.”

His eyes didn’t leave mine. “And what are you here to see me for?”

My throat tightened. “Can I… please… see you privately?”

He chuckled, rose to his feet, and gestured toward the door. We stepped into the hallway.

“You have my attention now,” he said, towering over me, his brown eyes piercing into mine. “How the fuck can I help you?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

His gaze drilled into me, unreadable, as if he was searching for something— anything— in my face.

“And what am I supposed to do with that information?” he asked, his voice cold, detached.

“It’s… yours,” I whispered, my chest pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

He raised an eyebrow.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, a smile curled on his lips— twisting into laughter.

“Get lost.”

“Wha— what?” My voice came out in a broken whisper, my lips trembling as they parted without control.

“You heard me. Fuck off. Don’t ever come near me again, or we’re going to have serious problems.”