Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“Owen Carter, I can’t ‘take responsibility.’ You just feel guilty and want to give me an explanation—but I don’t need it. I can handle this on my own.” I stared at the table, avoiding his eyes. So what if he’s my crush? We’re not meant to be. It was just a fling, a mistake. No love, no point ruining his life.

Owen didn’t speak—he just watched me.

“Clara Bennett, I don’t know what you’re thinking. But I was sober last night. I knew exactly what I was doing. I was ready to face our future.”

It was the first time I’d seen him so serious—his eyes were unwavering. I thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Then… let’s try.”

That day, we became a couple.

After work, we’d curl up on the couch, watch TV, and eat snacks—ordinary moments, but they felt perfect, because we cared about each other. At night, we’d sleep in each other’s arms. Days slipped by.

I met Lila at Starbucks, ready to confess about Owen. Time to face the music.

Before I could speak, she dropped a bombshell. “Babe! You won’t believe it—my brat’s dating someone! He brought her home yesterday, and Mom loved her! They’re talking about engagement!”

My eyes widened. Owen?

“I know! I was shocked too! That boy hid it so well!” Lila chattered excitedly. We went shopping for baby clothes afterward, but I was distracted.

Lila finally noticed. “Babe, you okay?”

“I’m fine—just tired. Can you call Elias to pick you up? I need to rest.”

Back at our apartment, everything felt like a mockery. So that’s why he didn’t come home last night—he was with his real girlfriend. What am I, then?

A wave of nausea hit me. Lies. All lies. I ran to the bathroom and retched. Then I remembered—my period was weeks late.

Dread settled in. I had to go to the pharmacy. I tucked extra tests in the drawer and stared at the one in my hand. One line… two lines.

I crumpled to the floor, sobbing. Why? Why couldn’t things stay the same?

At the obstetrician’s office, the doctor smiled gently. “The fetus is stable—three weeks along. Stay happy, rest well. Tell your husband to make you nourishing soup—you look pale.”

Her kindness reminded me of my mom. I teared up and sat in the hallway, trembling as I dialed a number I’d memorized but hadn’t called in years.

“Mom?” I cried before I could say anything else.

“Clara! What’s wrong? Why are you calling now?” Her voice was hoarse, not as clear as I remembered—but still warm.

“How did you feel… when you found out you were pregnant with me?”

“Like you were a gift from heaven. A surprise. I didn’t feel like a mom until I had you.”

I covered my mouth, sobbing. After a while, I whispered, “Mom, you have to be happy, okay?”

“Of course. Come visit soon, alright?”

I hung up, clutching the ultrasound report, and went home. The apartment was dark—Owen still wasn’t back. Probably with his girlfriend. I felt colder and colder, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I packed my bags, glanced around the apartment one last time, and whispered, “Goodbye, Owen Carter.”

I threw away my SIM card, deleted all my accounts, and vanished.