chapter 5

Anora's POV

Weeks slipped by, and little by little, I convinced myself I was healing. The sharp edges of betrayal dulled, the memories of Bruce and Debbie faded into background noise, and even the stranger from that reckless night blurred like a dream I barely remembered.

I told myself I was moving on and it felt really good to feel myself healing until the sickness came.

At first, I told myself it was nothing. just fatigue from work and loss of appetite. I didn't worry too much about it but then the nausea came, curling low in my stomach like a knot I couldn’t untie. Then fever struck out of nowhere, leaving me shaky and drained. And the day I doubled over and threw up in front of strangers, cheeks burning with embarrassment, I knew I couldn’t keep pretending it was nothing.

That’s when the thought hit me.

What if I was pregnant?

The question wrapped itself around me like barbed wire, digging deeper the harder I tried to pull away. I had even forgotten a whole month had gone by and I hadn't seen my monthly flow.

My hands shook so badly when I stood at the pharmacy counter that the cashier gave me a second look. I clutched the small paper bag against my chest like it might shield me from the truth inside. Five tests. Five chances at denial.

Back home, I locked the bathroom door and sank onto the toilet seat, heart hammering in my ears. One by one, I lined the sticks along the sink, each tiny window holding the power to ruin me.

Minutes stretched like hours.

Then, there it was. Bold and unforgiving. Two crimson lines slashing across every test strip.

The air seemed to leave my chest all at once. My knees felt weak, my fingers clumsy as they clung to the counter for balance. Tears welled, blurring the lines in front of me until I could barely see.

I stumbled out of the bathroom, my body moving like it wasn’t mine, like my bones had been scooped out and I was just a shell. Collapsing onto the bed, I buried my face in the sheets, muffling the sob that tore from my throat.

I was alone, along with this secret, this life growing inside me. No family. No one to lean on. My job barely paid my bills, let alone a baby. And the father? God—I didn’t even know who he truly was. All I knew was his name.

I curled around myself, clutching the test strips to my chest until my knuckles whitened, my tears soaking into the pillow.

Then, his voice cut through the static of my despair.

Familiar, smooth and commanding.

My head snapped up, eyes darting to the TV across the room. There he was. The man from that night. Standing at a podium, cameras flashing, microphones crowding his face as he delivered a speech to the world.

I scrambled for the remote, cranking the volume until his voice filled the room, curling around me like a ghost I thought I’d left behind.

“Today isn’t just about the company’s expansion,” his smooth voice carried through the screen. “It’s about a new chapter of my life.”

He paused, lips curling into a sweet smile.

I leaned forward, breath snagging in my throat. I wanted to hear what he had to say. A foolish part of me whispered that maybe he still thought about me. Maybe if I met him, if I told him about our child, he’d be happy. Maybe he’d even pull me into those arms again, the same arms that once made me forget the whole damn world.

“I’m honored to share with you that I am officially engaged to Clara Adonis.”

The words hit harder than a slap. My stomach lurched, and for a second, I thought I might be sick. Engaged? To Clara?

Of course I knew who she was. Everyone did. The golden heiress, the perfect daughter of the Adonis empire. She was flawless, untouchable, everything I wasn’t and could never be.

My chest tightened. I couldn’t watch another second. With trembling fingers, I fumbled for the remote and shut the screen off. The silence that followed was deafening, pressing against my ears until all I could hear was my own shaky breathing.

Stupid. My mind spat the word at me like venom. You really thought he’d come back? That you were more than just one night?

The memory of crisp bills left on the nightstand burned through me. My throat closed up, shame and heartbreak tangling until they tasted like acid at the back of my tongue.

My gaze fell, drawn almost helplessly to the small swell of my belly. My hand found it instinctively, palm pressing against the fragile life growing inside me. A sob tore free before I could stop it, hot tears streaking down my cheeks.

What was I supposed to do now? How was I supposed to carry this weight alone?

The thought of ending it flickered in, sharp and cruel, but I shoved it away. No. I couldn’t. This was my baby. My blood. A tiny piece of me, and of him too, no matter how much I wanted to hate him.

I swiped at my tears with the back of my hand, forcing my breaths to even out. He didn’t deserve this grief. He didn’t even know. And maybe he never would.

I would carry and raise this child alone, if that’s what it came to.

I stood up from my bed slowly and made my way to my small kitchen when my eyes fell on the necklace resting on my nightstand, exactly where I had left it the last time.

It gleamed faintly in the dim light, almost as if it were mocking me. My steps faltered, and for a second, I just stood there, staring. The necklace reminded me of him. It reminded me of what we had that night.

My throat tightened. Part of me wanted to grab it and throw it out the window, to be done with the weight of it forever. But another part… the softer, weaker part of me… wanted to keep it close. To hold it as proof that what we shared hadn’t been a dream.

I swallowed hard, slipping the necklace into the drawer with trembling hands. It was safer there, out of sight.

I had no reason to see him again. No means of reaching him, even if I wanted to. And truthfully, I didn’t want to anymore. It was my baby that mattered to me more than anything in the world.