LOGINAdrian got to the house faster than I expected.I was still sitting on the bed in the dark when my phone lit up again.I’m outside.I went to the gate in a cardigan and slippers, heart beating hard. He stood under the streetlight, hair a little messy, face tight.“Show me,” he said.I handed him the phone. He read Bella’s messages once, then again.Heard you’ve been sick a lot. And Vale keeps hovering. Don’t get clever, Sophia. If there’s a baby, Damien deserves to know. Hide it and it won’t stay hidden.I’m with him tomorrow morning. If I feel generous, maybe I won’t say anything. If I don’t… well.Adrian’s jaw worked.“She’s bluffing,” I said, mostly to steady myself.“Maybe. Maybe not.”“She doesn’t have proof.”“She doesn’t need proof to start trouble. She only needs Damien’s pride.”We stood there with the night between us. From the house I could hear nothing. Mama and Papa were asleep. If they woke and saw him at the gate this late, the questions would start before I was ready.
Mama’s text was still on my phone when I woke up properly.Are you coming home this morning?Adrian stood by the door looking like he’d slept in pieces.“She’s asking,” I said.“What are you going to say?”“That I slept over. That’s it.”“Okay. I’ll drive you.”I washed my face, pulled on yesterday’s clothes, and left the tests where they were. Positive was enough. I didn’t have space for more.In the car I kept my bag on my lap.“If Damien finds out, he’ll make it a weapon,” I said.Adrian didn’t ask whose baby it was. He didn’t even go near that.“Then he doesn’t find out.”“You say that like it’s easy.”“It’s not easy. It’s still what we’re doing.”I looked at him.“Why aren’t you panicking?”“I am. I’m just not going to pour it on you.”That shut me up for a while.At the gate he parked and sat with his hand on the gear.“You don’t have to tell your parents today.”“I can’t.”“Alright. Call me if it gets rough.”I nodded and went inside.Mama took one look at me and stopped.“You
I spent the morning acting like the thought hadn’t followed me out of bed.Late.Tired.Nauseous.Sore chest.I opened the shop, answered messages, cut lining, and kept telling myself stress could do all of that. Stress made people feel sick. Stress messed up periods. Stress was an easy answer.But it just didn’t sit right.The girl noticed by ten.“You keep rubbing your forehead. Is something bothering you?”“It’s just headache.”“You want something for it?”“I’ll manage. Thank you.”I wasn’t managing. The adhesive smell bothered me again. Tea tasted off. Mid-morning I had to sit down because standing made my stomach turn.Adrian texted.Still okay for this evening?Yes.You sound off,did something happen??I’m working.Alright. I’ll pick you up at six.I put the phone away and tried to focus on the order. Progress was fine. That should’ve calmed me. Instead I kept thinking about the calendar in my bag.At lunch I closed the back room door and sat with my phone.I typed dates into th
The nausea came back when I stood up.Not as sharp as the first wave, but enough that I had to hold the edge of the sink and breathe through my mouth. Cold water on my face helped. Toothpaste helped more. By the time I left the bathroom, my stomach had settled into a low uneasy quiet.Stress, I told myself again.Lack of sleep.Too much happening at once.Mama was in the kitchen.“You look pale.”“I’m fine.”“Eat.”I tried toast. Two bites sat wrong, so I stopped and drank tea slowly until my stomach accepted it. Papa watched me over his paper but didn’t comment. I was grateful for that.At the shop I opened on time and kept my hands busy. Work was safer than thinking. The corporate order still needed speed. Half the delayed materials had saved me, and the rest were due soon. If I kept a strict pace, I could make the date.The girl arrived and studied my face.“You okay?”“Didn’t sleep well.”“Adrian related or work related?”“Both.”She hummed like she understood more than I said and
He stood in the dark with his hands in his pockets like he was waiting for me to send him away.I didn’t.I closed the front door as softly as I could and walked to the gate. The night air hit my legs under the nightdress. My cardigan was thin and useless against it.“Hey,” I said.“Hey.”He opened the passenger door without a big speech. I got in. He walked around, got in, and didn’t start the engine.For a moment we just sat there.“You can still go back inside, you know right” he said.“I know.”“Your parents—”“They’re asleep.”He nodded and looked at me properly. Not polished. Not controlled. Just a man who had driven over in the middle of the night because I said yes.“I didn’t come here to pressure you.”“Then why did you come?”“Because you texted me. And because I couldn’t sleep either.”My chest felt tight.The street was quiet. Somewhere far off a dog barked once and stopped. I could smell his cologne faintly in the car, the same one from other days, now mixed with night ai
The delay notice sat in my inbox like a stone.Six to eight days?? On an order with no spare time.I called the supplier as soon as they opened. A woman with a tired voice said a batch verification had held some stock back. She sounded real. That almost made it worse.“What’s the earliest you can give me?” I asked.“We’re trying for five. I can’t promise less.”“Please try.”I hung up and stared at the half-done pieces on the table. Panic climbed up my throat. I pushed it down and rewrote the schedule until the numbers stopped jumping around.Adrian called while I was still at it.“You saw the mail?”“Yes.”“How bad is it ?”“So bad. I don’t even know what to do.”“Just try to calm down please. Let’s start with something. What do you need?”I almost said nothing. Then I told the truth.“I need those materials. And I need to not go mad before they come.”“Come out with me tonight.”“But I have work.”“You have work tomorrow too. One evening won’t kill the order.”I pressed my thumb ha







