bChapter /bb101 /b

Elena’s POV:

My mother’s eyes widened as she stared at me. Her face, still pale from the shock of Priya’s death, contorted into a mink of dibebel. The silence stretched. It felt blike /ban eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than a few heartbeats.

“No. Are you sure?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Have you gotten tested?”

I nodded, my throat tight. “Yes, Mom. I have.” I swallowed, the taste of stale vomit still lingering. “I found out a couple days ago. At Dr. Beckett’s clinic

Her grip on my hand, which she’d instinctively sped when I first confessed, tightened almost painfully. Her knuckles turned white. “A couple days ago! Was that… that day you came back Late with Seraphina’s brother Her voice wasced with a dawning horror.

I could feel the blush creeping up my neck, a shameful heat. There was no point in hiding the truth anymore.“Yes,” admitted, my voice a strained whisper.

She cut herself off, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips as she shook her head, running a trembling hand through her silver–streaked hair. “Why didn’t you

Sher

estopped, her eyes, usually so full of gentle concem, now sharp with a sudden, piercing fear. “No. Does Niki know? This is… Nikr’s, right?”

looked at her, my brows furrowed in a frown. The absurdity bof /bher question, given everything, almost made meugh bitterly, “Yes, Mom, It’s Niki’s. I’m three weeks: along I

“Dimitri hadn’t been in my bed for three months now, bour /brtionship a slow, agonizing side into oblivion long before the cheating.

Her gaze was fixed on my face, searching, assessing. She swallowed hard, her eyes still wide with shock. “So Niki knows”

Ishook my head slowly. “No. No, he doesn’tb… /bband /bI don’t n on telling him. The words came out with a conviction I didn’t entirely feel, a desperate shiold against a storm knew was brewing.

“Are you stupid? You can’t do that!” Beatrix shot bup /bfrom the bsofa/b, the sudden movement startling me. The raw rm in ber tone sent a fresh wave of panic through me. “He’s the father.” She practically spat the words, as if that fact alone negated all my fears, all my carefully constructed walls.

“Mom,” I started, my voice thin, “He doesn’t want to be ba /bfather.” The words tasted like ash. My stomach churned, a familiar difort that had be my constantpanion

She looked at bme /bas if I’d just announced I was moving to another, her face etched with a disbelief that felt like a physical blow. “How are you so

bI /bsighed, rubbing my forehead, the ghost of a migraine still lingering behind my eyes. The conversation was exhausting. “I know, okay?” I repeated, my bvoice /bring slightly with exasperation. “He said it to my face. He constantly asked about me being on bbirth /bcontrol. if I went and told him that I was now pregnant with his child…” I trailed off, shaking my head, picturing his likely reaction. “He’s a billionaire. What if he thinks I am baby trapping him The societal judgment, the bwhispers/b, the implication that I was using this baby as ba /bpawn for financial gain–it was a terrifying prospect.

My dignity, already tattered, couldn’t take another blow.

Mom rubbed her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips. She moved to sit beside me on the s, the cushion sinking slightly under her weight, a smallfort in the bchaos /b

She sat in silence for ba /blong while, her gaze fixed on some unseen point in the distance, her brow furrowed in deep thought. I could almost hear the gears turning in her mind, weighing optionsb, /bcalcting risks, struggling with a reality she clearly hadn’t anticipated.

Finallyb, /bshe nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.” Her voice was soft, devoid of the earlier sharp edge, reced by a quiet despair. “Neither of you wanted kids, did you? Nat right nowb, /banyway” Her eyes, when they met mine again, were filed with a profound sadness. “So you’re going to get an… abortion then?“.

pursed my lips. bUnsure /bhow to banswer /bthat question but for my mother that silence from me was ans

was answer emo

sough

Mom bspoke /bagain, her voice gaining a fresh urgency, a plea. “Elena. Please don’t tell me you don’t n on getting an abortion.” Fear gripped me at he disappointed tone, ba /bbcold /bw squeezing my chest. I knew she meant well, but her words felt like a condemnation.

She continued, her voice softening, yet still firm with conviction, “You know there’s nothing wrong with getting an abortion at this stage if you ent ready, right? You aren’t financially or mentally capable of caring for kids. If I could help, I would have. But barely have energy to took aftering back from work nowadays… you need to get hus abortion unless you n on telling Niki. Because otherwise, you can’t care for the baby!

I knew she was right deep down, I understood her exhaustion, the sacrifice she already made for me, pressed down on my shoulders. I took a deeg. shuddering breath. 1–I’ll think about it, Mom. I have time” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, a desperate attempt to buy myself a reprieve from the inevitable. I know, deep down, that time was exactly what I didn’t have.

She looked at me, her gaze filled with a familiar worry, then her eyes dried to the television, “Alright then,” she said, rubbing her forehead. She pushed herself up from the sofa, her movements still. “Go get changed. I’ll get dinner ready.”

“A–alright.” My voice bwas /ba shaky whisper as I got up and made my way to my bedroom. I probably still smelled like puke Shit. The thought was dull, embarrassing ache.

At least I didn’t have an exam tomorrow, so I could sleep in. That was one bright side, a tiny flicker of hope in the overwhelming darkness. Buti mil needed to give an exam the day after.

Mom’s words kept repeating in my head, a relentless mantra, You aren’t financially capable of caring for ba /bchild. That was true, wasn’t it? The chilling truth settled in my stomach. I didn’t even have a part–time job anymore, let alone ba /bstable carrer.

I sighed, the sound a ragged breath escaping my lips. My choices, once seemingly limitless, had narrowed to two stark paths if I didn’t want an abortion.

The first was to forgive Niki, subjugate my pride, and be an obedient, subservient, run–ofb–/bbthe-/bmill housewife. The idea alone made my stomach chum, a bitter taste rising in my throst. I didn’t mean any disrespect to house wives, in fact they were more courageous than me if they could depend on a man for their needs, because I didn’t have the capacity to do that. My self–respect, already fragile, wouldn’t survive it. Because even if some part of me knew Niki wasn’t that kind of a man, my trust in him had already been broken.

The second was to find a fucking job as soon as possible. A real job. Something that could support two lives, not just one. The prospect was daunting almost insurmountable, bbut /bit sparked a tiny ember of hope within me. it was the harder path, the one fraught with uncertainty and immense strug but it was my path. It was the only way to reim a semnce of control, to rebuild my lie on my own terms.

The next days passed by in a rough cycle, a blur of restless nights and anxious days. The university library became my second home. I buried myself in textbooks. My fingers cramped from endless note–taking, and my eyes burned from too much screen time, but it bwas /bbetter than sitting idle, lost in my thoughts.

Every time I entered the house, mom looked at me, her eyes questioning, hopeful, anxious. And bI /bknew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that when I entered home again today, she’d ask me if I had decided yet. I had made the call. If I had taken the first step towards a future she believed was my only viable option,

I didn’t know why she was bso /banxious. We still had two months…right? The thought was a desperate plea, a futile attempt to stretch bthe /btimeline, to dy the inevitable. But my gut churned with a dark premonition, a cold dread that whispered. No. Time is running out.

Today, though, a different feeling bloomed in my chest. A surge bof /bexhrating reel. I’d given myst Viva. Mygenior project presentation was finally over, scrutinized by professors bwho /bfired questions like rapid–fire bullets. But I’d answered them ball/b, articted my designs, defended my theories. And now, it was done. I was fucking overjoyed to say goodbye to this goddamn university, to thete–night cram sessions, the fluorescent lights, the gossiping students, the suffocating pressure of expectations. Even if the world outside still seemed just bas /bhopeless.

I pushed through the bdouble /bdoors of the engineering building. The main hallway was a chaotic river of students. My eyes as I walked into the crowded

?d then, all of ba /bsudden

Her.

My breath hitched. The girl. The bone /bfrom the janitor’s room. I hadn’t seen her since that day. My stomach gave a strange lurch, a mix of apprehension and a desperate need to know.

i*/iExcuse me!” I yelled an instinct, my voice cutting through the din of the hallway it was her. Finally, I got to see her