The Positive Test

The smell of coffee made Elena sick. She barely made it to the restaurant bathroom before vomiting into the sink, her entire body trembling afterward from the force of it. For a few seconds, she simply stood there gripping the edge of the sink while cold sweat clung to the back of her neck. The fluorescent light above her buzzed faintly. Her reflection looked awful. Pale skin. Dark circles. Eyes that no longer looked rested no matter how much sleep she got. If she even slept at all. Three weeks had passed since that night. Three weeks since the stranger with cold dark eyes disappeared from her life with nothing but two words left behind. Forget me. Elena pressed her eyes shut tightly.

God.

Why did she still think about him? Why did she still remember the way his voice sounded in the dark? The way his hands held her like she was something fragile and dangerous at the same time? It was stupid. She didn’t even know his name.

“Elena!” Her manager’s voice echoed outside the bathroom door. “You planning to live in there?!” Elena quickly splashed water on her face. “I’m coming!” “You better be. Table seven is already complaining.” She inhaled shakily before forcing herself back into the restaurant. The dinner rush was brutal. Plates clattered endlessly. Customers snapped their fingers impatiently. Her feet screamed in pain after hours of nonstop movement, but Elena ignored it the same way she ignored everything else lately. The loneliness. The exhaustion. The hollow ache Ryan had left behind. By the end of the night, she could barely stand upright. “Elena, behind you—” A sharp dizziness suddenly slammed into her vision. The tray slipped from her hands. Glasses shattered violently against the floor. Gasps erupted around her. Then darkness tilted sideways. Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground. “Jesus Christ.” Voices blurred together around her.

“She’s burning up.”

“Get water!”

“Elena?” She blinked slowly as the world swam back into focus. Humiliation burned instantly through her chest. “I’m okay,” she whispered weakly. Her manager looked furious. “You call collapsing okay?”

“I just skipped breakfast.”

"You’ve been sick for two weeks.” Elena opened her mouth to argue. Then stopped. Because suddenly— Two weeks. Her stomach dropped. No.

No, no, no. Her heartbeat began pounding painfully. When was the last time she—

Her breath caught. Oh God. No.

---

Rain drizzled lightly outside the pharmacy windows as Elena stood frozen in the aisle staring at the pregnancy tests lined across the shelves.

Her fingers trembled. This was ridiculous.

Stress could delay periods. Exhaustion too. She had been through hell recently. That had to be it Right? Still, her shaking hand reached for the box anyway. By the time she got back to her tiny rented room, her chest hurt so badly from panic she could barely breathe. The apartment was barely bigger than a closet. A narrow bed. One weak lamp. Peeling paint near the ceiling. Nothing like the home she once imagined building with Ryan. Elena sat on the edge of the bed for nearly ten minutes staring at the unopened box in her lap. Her mind kept drifting back to that night. To the stranger. To the way he looked at her like he saw every broken piece she tried to hide. A dangerous man. A temporary mistake. A man she would never see again. Her stomach twisted violently. Finally, she stood and walked toward the bathroom. The next few minutes felt endless. Every second stretched painfully thin. Then— Two pink lines. Elena stared at them blankly. The world stopped moving. No sound. No air. Nothing. Her knees gave out beneath her. “No…” The word came out broken.

Tiny. She grabbed the sink for support while panic crashed violently through her body.

Pregnant.

She was pregnant.

Tears burned instantly behind her eyes.

“No, please…”

Her voice shook harder now. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when she could barely afford food. Not when she had nobody. Not when she still hasn't gotten a reasonable job. Not when the father was a nameless stranger she met during the worst night of her life. A sob escaped her before she could stop it. Elena covered her mouth quickly, but it didn’t matter. The tears came anyway.

Fast. Painful. Overwhelming. She slid slowly onto the bathroom floor, curling into herself while fear swallowed her whole. What was she supposed to do now? How could she raise a child alone? How could she even survive? And worse— How could she find a man whose real name she didn’t even know? All she had left of him was a memory. Dark eyes. Cold hands. A voice she still heard in her dreams. Forget me. Elena laughed bitterly through tears. Too late.

---

Thousands of miles away, a private jet sliced through the night sky. Damien Blackwood sat silently beside the window, his expression unreadable as city lights glowed beneath the clouds. Three weeks. Three weeks since the woman with haunted eyes invaded his thoughts like a disease he couldn’t cure. It irritated him. Nothing stayed in his head this long. Especially not women. Yet somehow he still remembered everything about her. The sadness in her voice. The rainwater clinging to her skin. The reckless desperation in the way she kissed him back. Damien loosened his tie slightly, annoyed by the unfamiliar tension sitting heavily in his chest. “You have a meeting with the board tomorrow morning,” his assistant said carefully from across the cabin. Damien nodded once. “Anything urgent?” A brief hesitation. “Yes, sir.”

Damien’s eyes lifted slowly. His assistant swallowed. “There was a security breach involving the hotel from your last stay.” The temperature inside the cabin seemed to drop instantly. “What kind of breach?” “The surveillance system was hacked.”Damien’s gaze hardened dangerously.

“By who?”

“We’re still investigating.” Silence. Deadly silence. Damien’s fingers tapped once against the armrest. “Was anything stolen?” Another hesitation. Then— “The footage from your penthouse floor disappeared.” A dark shadow crossed Damien’s face. Every instinct inside him sharpened instantly. Because people did not hack security systems connected to him unless they wanted something. Or someone. “Recover it,” Damien said coldly. “We’re trying.”

“No.” His voice dropped lower. More dangerous. “Do it.” His assistant nodded immediately. “Yes, sir.” Damien turned back toward the window, jaw tight. For the first time in years, unease settled heavily inside him. Not fear. Damien Blackwood did not fear anyone. But instinct?

Instinct was different. And his instincts were rarely wrong.

---

The next evening, Damien entered Blackwood Tower surrounded by security and terrified employees scrambling out of his path. Power followed him naturally. Cold. Absolute. Men twice his age lowered their heads when he passed. Women stared too long. Nobody dared approach him carelessly. By the time he stepped into his private office, his head already throbbed from meetings. His security chief stood waiting beside the desk. “We recovered part of the deleted footage.” Damien removed his suit jacket slowly. “Show me.” The screen flickered to life. Hotel cameras. Hallways. Elevators. Time stamps.

Then— Her. Damien went completely still.

The woman from the bar appeared on the screen wearing his dress shirt beneath her coat, her hair slightly messy as she walked beside him toward the penthouse suite. For the first time, Damien saw her clearly.

Soft and beautiful features. Tired eyes. Beautiful in a way that hurt unexpectedly to look at. The footage paused automatically. Something strange tightened inside his chest. Then his security chief spoke carefully. “Sir… there’s more.” Damien’s eyes narrowed. “What?” The older man hesitated. “The hacker copied only one section of footage.” A pause. “The section containing her. ”Silence filled the office instantly. Cold. Heavy. Dangerous. Damien stared at Elena’s frozen image on the screen while something dark slowly settled inside him. Someone was watching her. And suddenly— He wanted to know why.