Chapter 6

Emma's POV 

My voice trembled with a mix of anger and disbelief as I confronted Ethan, my eyes fixed on his face, searching for any sign of remorse or explanation.

“I see you have been living well despite the pregnancy,” he said, watching me, his face plastered with a look of disgust. 

As Ethan arrogantly stepped into my apartment, a surge of emotions overwhelmed me. Anger, disbelief, and a lingering sense of hatred coursed through my veins. I couldn't believe he dared to show up uninvited, only to pass judgment on my life and the choices I had made.

His smug expression infuriated me even more. It was as if he took pleasure in my suffering, finding satisfaction in the notion that I was somehow thriving despite the hardships I had faced.

My voice quivered with a mix of anger and incredulity as I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in on his face, searching for any flicker of remorse or an explanation that could justify his callous behaviour.

"How dare you?" I exclaimed, my voice laced with a bitter edge. "You dare to waltz into my apartment, casting judgment and disdain upon me as if you possess some superior moral ground. What gives you the right to stand there and act as if you have control over my life?"

Ethan's smirk faltered, his eyes shifting uneasily under the weight of my piercing gaze. It seemed that my words were finally penetrating his self-assured façade, exposing the repercussions of his actions.

However, in an instant, his smugness resurfaced, undeterred by my anger. He retorted, "It was your choice, after all, to keep that baby. Perhaps you thought you could latch onto my wealth with that... that bastard you call a child."

The words hung in the air, fueling a fire within me. Without a second thought, I unleashed a resounding slap across his face, channelling all the strength I could muster. The impact stung not only his cheek but reverberated through my hand, evidence of the intensity of my emotions.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Ethan recoiled from the force of the slap, his hand instinctively reaching up to soothe the sting on his cheek. My hand throbbed with a mix of pain and satisfaction, a physical manifestation of the anger and frustration that had built up within me.

For a brief moment, the smugness that had once adorned Ethan's face vanished, replaced by a flicker of surprise and vulnerability. It was a rare glimpse beneath the mask he wore, exposing a hint of the pain he had inflicted upon me.

But just as quickly as it had appeared, Ethan's composure returned. His eyes narrowed, and his voice dripped with a cold, calculated demeanour. "You always were a fiery one, Emma. But you're deluding yourself if you think a mere slap can change anything. You made your choices, and now you'll have to live with the consequences."

His callous words hung in the air, a cruel reminder of the reality I found myself in. The weight of his dismissive attitude pressed upon me, threatening to crush the flicker of strength I had mustered.

But I refused to let his words break me. Standing tall, I locked eyes with him, my voice steady and resolute. "You may believe that I am alone in this, Ethan, but I am stronger than you give me credit for. "I will face the consequences of my actions, but I will not allow you to define my worth, my life, or that of my child, nor will you determine my future," I declared with unwavering determination, my voice infused with a newfound strength.

“I came here to give you the last chance to remove those bas… thi…” 

Ethan's attempt to degrade my child was met with a fiery glare, my eyes ablaze with fury as I interrupted him. "Do not dare to call my child a bastard or reduce them to a mere thing. One more disrespectful word and I will forcefully remove you from my house."

For a moment, our eyes locked in a battle of wills, the tension palpable in the air. Finally, he relented, a weary sigh escaping his lips.

"I came here to discuss the future of your child. I am willing to provide you with a significant sum of money to settle your final papers and bills, on one condition: that you remove the child from your womb," he proposed, his tone betraying a mixture of frustration and reluctant concern.

As his words hung in the air, a storm of conflicting emotions raged within me. On one hand, the financial support he offered could alleviate some of the immediate burdens weighing me down. I figured I could help my finances since I already did the abortion anyways. But considering his ego, I figured I could do well myself. 

I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. The offer hung in the air, tempting yet laced with manipulation and disregard for the life growing within me. It was an opportunity to escape the burdens and challenges that awaited me even though I had already gone through with the abortion, but at what cost?

I couldn't deny the allure of Ethan's proposition, the chance to alleviate some of the burdens that threatened to consume me. But I couldn't stand his ego more than I could barely breathe in between my financial struggles.

Summoning every ounce of strength, I met Ethan's gaze, my voice steady but laced with resolve. "No amount of money can erase the value and worth of my child. I will not sacrifice their life for temporary relief from my struggles. They are not a bargaining chip, Ethan. My decision is final."

Silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the sound of our heavy breaths. Ethan's expression hardened, a mixture of frustration and disappointment crossing his face. He had hoped to sway me, to bend me to his will, but I stood firm in my conviction.

With a mixture of anxiousness and disgust for him, I opened the door, gesturing for Ethan to leave. "Our discussion ends here, Ethan. I will no longer entertain any attempts to interfere with my choices. Please respect my decision and leave."

He lingered for a moment, his eyes betraying a mix of frustration and defeat. It was clear that my firm stance had caught him off guard, challenging his assumptions about my intentions and strength. Without uttering another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his departure marked by a heavy silence that settled over the room.

As he exited my house, the weight of the confrontation still hanging in the air, a surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins. Before closing the door, I mustered the courage to call out to him, my voice steady and resolute.

"By the way," I began, clearing my throat to emphasize my unwavering conviction, "I want to make it clear that I never had any intention of using a child to gain access to your wealth. I wouldn't want to bring a child into this world whose father is nothing short of a monster."

As the door closed behind me, sealing off the remnants of the confrontation, a surge of emotions swirled within me. Relief mingled with a newfound sense of empowerment like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The encounter with Ethan had been draining, but it had also awakened a fire within me, igniting a determination to reclaim control of my life.

Glancing at the clock, I realized that it was already well past midnight. Fatigue washed over me, a reminder of the toll the day had taken on my body and mind. I knew that rest was essential, not only to rejuvenate myself physically but also to gather strength for the challenges that lay ahead.

Leaving the echoes of the confrontation behind, I made my way back to my bedroom, yearning for the solace of sleep. Slipping under the covers, I closed my eyes, willing my troubled thoughts to settle. The darkness embraced me, providing a respite from the tumultuous events of the day.

In the quiet stillness of my room, I allowed myself to drift into a peaceful slumber. As the sun began to cast its gentle rays through my bedroom window, a familiar sound pierced the tranquillity of the room. It was the alarm clock, dutifully fulfilling its purpose by awakening me from my slumber. With a sense of anticipation, I opened my eyes and greeted the new day with a smile gracing my lips.

In the aftermath of the confrontation with Ethan, a sense of triumph lingered in the air. Although the wounds of abortion and heartache still seared within me, I had stood my ground and refused to let him define my worth. 

As I rose from the comfort of my bed, a mix of emotions coursed through my veins. There was a sense of liberation, a taste of victory that came from asserting my autonomy and refusing to be controlled by the toxicity of the past. However, the pain of not being able to provide for my child, and the weight of my decision to terminate the pregnancy, continued to cast a shadow upon my heart.

Yet, even amidst the lingering pain, a glimmer of hope emerged. In choosing to spare my child from a life of suffering, I held onto the belief that I had made the best decision I could at that moment. It was a decision born out of love, the love that compelled me to protect my child from the hardships that awaited them in a world filled with uncertainty.

As I prepared for the day ahead, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, I found peace in the routine of my morning rituals. After taking my showers, I placed a woollen sanitary pad over my undies. I couldn't afford any form of embarrassment.

Dressed in clothes that radiated quiet confidence, I stood before the mirror, meeting my gaze. And suddenly my stomach violently grumbled. 

Yeah, I should get some food now! 

As I turned away from the mirror, I made my way to the kitchen. My initial intention was to quickly warm the canned food but changed my mind and decided to go with making pasta, treating myself.

Taking a box of spaghetti, I brought a pot of water and placed it on the gas top. While waiting for it to be ready, I made other preparations which I intended to use to prepare my food. 

With a swift motion, I poured the pasta into the boiling water, the dry strands surrendering to the warmth and moisture. As they softened and expanded, I carefully stirred the pot, ensuring each strand had ample space to cook evenly. 

While the spaghetti cooked to perfection, I turned my attention to the sauce. Gathering fresh ingredients which I had taken from the refrigerator, I chopped vibrant tomatoes, aromatic garlic, and fragrant herbs. The cutting board became a stage for a symphony of colours and textures, as I skillfully diced and minced, creating a medley of flavours that would dance upon my taste buds.

In a heated pan, I drizzled a glimmering stream of olive oil, it released a gentle sizzle. The minced garlic followed, releasing its captivating fragrance as it mingled with the oil. Then, with a flourish, I added the diced tomatoes, watching as they transformed, their juices melding with the other ingredients to form a vibrant sauce.

With the sauce simmering and the pasta cooked to al dente perfection, it was time to unite the elements. Using tongs, I carefully transferred the cooked spaghetti to the pan, allowing the tendrils to become enveloped in the tantalizing embrace of the sauce. A gentle toss, the strands intertwining with the flavours, ensured that every bite would be an exquisite union of taste and texture.

As the aroma of the freshly prepared spaghetti filled the room, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. In this humble meal, I found nourishment not just for my body but also for my spirit.

With a plate filled with a generous portion of spaghetti, adorned with a sprinkle of grated cheese and a garnish of fresh herbs, I marvelled at the masterpiece before me.

I quickly gobbled up my food when my tummy reminded me of its dissatisfaction. After which I was done, I moved to the mirror to check my dress. Thoroughly satisfied with my dress, I picked up all my necessities for the day and set out. 

After my morning hustle, I made my way to school. The campus buzzed with the usual morning activities as students hurried to their classes. I, too, walked with purpose, expecting a typical day of studying quietly and attending lectures, embracing the familiar cloak of invisibility that had become my comfort zone.

But as soon as I stepped onto the school grounds, a strange tension seemed to hang in the air. I noticed furtive glances and hushed conversations, and an inexplicable feeling of unease washed over me. Though curious, I tried not to dwell on it, hoping that it was merely a figment of my imagination.

However, the whispers and stares persisted, and I couldn't ignore the strange atmosphere that seemed to envelop me. Just as I was about to enter the lecture hall, a sudden commotion caught my attention.

“That's the girl!” a boy's voice rang out, filled with a mix of surprise and amusement. His words were followed by laughter from his companions, their eyes fixated on me.

“She looked so innocent," a blonde girl remarked to her friends, her tone tinged with disbelief. "You wouldn't believe she's capable of doing such a thing."

Intrigued and somewhat uneasy, I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. What had caused me to become the centre of attention, the subject of their gossip?

“Such a…” another guy sneered

“Stay away from her.” A blue-eyed blonde cut him short. 

As I attended my lectures, I tried my best to focus on the lessons, pushing away the distracting thoughts and curious glances. It was a struggle to concentrate, as my mind kept wandering to the rumours and speculations that were swirling around me.

Worse is, I didn't know what I had done wrong. 

After all my lectures were over, I was rushing to meet up with my second hustle when I checked my phone to see Maria's calls all missed

An eerie feeling suddenly gripped me, it didn't take a minute before she called back. 

“What have you done?” She screamed into the phone.