Two Lines, One Truth

Amara’s POV

Weeks passed. Long, dragging weeks. And that night? Still glued to me. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

It was absurd. I could be walking to the store, checking emails, brushing my teeth and then suddenly remember. His hands. His mouth. The way he made me forget who I was for a second. My body remembered him even though I was trying so hard to pretend I didn’t.

And my body wasn’t just remembering. It was betraying me.

I was always exhausted. Coffee didn’t help. My stomach turned inside out at random times. Sometimes it was just nausea, other times it hit like a truck and I’d be bent over, fighting to keep anything down. Nights were no better—I’d roll around like a restless kid who couldn’t find a comfortable spot.

Stress, I told myself. Bad food. Lack of sleep. Rent breathing down my neck. The stack of unpaid bills daring me to look at them. That’s all it was. Had to be.

Except… deep down, I knew it wasn’t.

Finding a job? A complete disaster. Every interview felt like déjà vu. A polite smile, a few nods, and then the same words: unfortunately… we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates. My inbox was a graveyard of rejection. My bank account made me laugh in the worst way—it was either laugh or cry at the tiny number blinking back at me.

Selena, of course, was there. Always there. One Friday evening, she showed up with greasy takeout and a stack of movies she knew we wouldn’t finish. We sat on the couch, and ate our food as the movie started playing.

For the first time all week, I almost felt normal again. Almost.

Then it hit.

I could feel the food I just ate rising up from my tummy and then I quickly rushed to the bathroom. Knees on tile, head over the toilet. My entire body shook as I emptied what little food I had managed to keep down.

Selena knelt beside me, helping me by shifting my hair out of my face, steady stokes on my back. “It’s okay, breathe,” she whispered.

When it finally stopped, I walked over to the sink and washed my mouth and face.

My reflection looked like a ghost—hollow eyes, pale skin, lips cracked and dry.

“Amara…” Selena said softly.

“What?” My throat was dry.

She hesitated, looking at me in the eyes. “Don’t freak out, but… I think you might be pregnant.”

The words surprised me, but I shouldn't be.

I blinked at her. Then laughed. A short, shaky laugh that sounded nothing like me. “No. No way. That’s… that’s not possible.”

Her brows pinched. “Really? You’ve been throwing up for weeks. You’re always tired. You’re moody as hell—no offense.”

“Selena I can't be pregnant,” I muttered, still in denial.

Selena stood in front of me, serious now. “Amara, you need to know. For sure.”

I wanted to argue. God, I wanted to. But deep down, i had this feeling that what she was saying may be true.

We went to the pharmacy and bought the test. I carried the paper bag like it weighed a hundred pounds. A single pregnancy test, heavier than the world.

We got back to my apartment, and went straight to the bathroom. I held the test and my hands shook so bad I thought I’d drop it.

Selena encouraged me. “Better to know than to torture yourself.”

So I did it. Shaky hands. Careful instructions. The longest few minutes of my life.

When it was time, I walked back into the bathroom with Selena. I looked at the test.

Two lines. Bold. Dark. Screaming the truth.

Pregnant.

I sank to the floor, tears spilling before I could stop them.

“I’m… pregnant,” I spoke out, voice cracking.

Selena dropped down and pulled me into her arms. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“I can’t… raise a child Sel. I'm jobless and deep in debt. What am I going to do?” My chest hurt with the words.

She smoothed my hair like I was a kid again. “We start by figuring out who the father is.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “There’s no mystery. It’s him. The man from that night. I haven’t been with or slept with anyone else.”

“Then we’ll find out who he is. Remember I picked you up at that fancy hotel, right? They’ll know who paid for the room.”

Hope flickered, tiny and fragile. “You think they’ll tell us?”

“They might not,” she admitted, “but we have to try.”

That little bit of determination carried us out into the night. We threw on our jackets, got into Selena’s car, and headed to the hotel.

My mind ran circles: what if we never find him? What if I raise this baby alone? My hands pressed to my stomach, not ready to admit there was something there.

Minutes later we arrived at The Elite Hotel. We went inside and because I rushed out that night I didn't notice how beautiful the place was.

The building was all glass and marble and chandeliers that cost more than my entire life. Selena marched to the front desk, confidence in every step. I walked slowly, nervous.

“Welcome to The Elite Hotel,” the receptionist said brightly. “How may I help you?”

Selena went straight to the point. “My friend spent the night here a few weeks ago. We just need to know who paid for the room.”

The woman’s smile froze. “I’m sorry. That information is confidential.”

Panic plugged in my chest. I stepped forward, desperate. “Please… I just need to know. It's very important.

She looked at me and then at Selena.

“Do you remember the room you stayed in?”

“Yes, room 201” I replied. I was happy that even in my drunk condition that night I remembered to look at the front of the room door.

Her fingers tapped quickly across the keyboard. She paused. Looked up. Then back at the screen.

“Room 201,” she said slowly. “That suite was booked three weeks ago. It hasn’t been used since.”

She continued to look at the screen then her eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe disbelief. “The man who paid for the room was Mr. Lucian Draxen.”

Selena gasped. I stared blankly. “Who?”

The receptionist blinked at me. “You don’t know Lucian Draxen?”

Before I could respond, Selena grabbed my hand. “Thank you,” she said quickly, dragging me outside.

I yanked free once we hit the street. “Selena! We still don’t know anything.”

“We do.” She shoved my phone at me. “G****e him.”

My hands shook as I typed.

And then—his face. Everywhere. Magazine covers, headlines, glossy event photos. Lucian Draxen. Billionaire. New York’s elite. Suits that looked stitched from money itself. Surrounded by models, celebrities, power players.

I couldn’t breathe.

“He’s… a billionaire,” I whispered.

Selena gave me a look like I’d just declared the sky was blue. “Exactly. Now you know why he threatened you about the media. This isn’t just some guy, Amara. This is Lucian Draxen.”

The truth pressed down like a weight I couldn’t lift.

“I don’t have the resources to raise this baby Sel.” I said honestly. “So I have to tell him. He has to take responsibility.”

Selena’s hand slid into mine, grounding me. “Then we’ll do it. Step by step. You’re not alone.”

I nodded, forcing a smile. Inside, I was a mess of fear and determination.

Because now it wasn’t just about me.

It was about this baby.

I had to face Lucian Draxen, the man I swore I’d never see again.