Chapter 6 #2
Somehow, he already knows.
"I'm fine," I lie.
He studies me for a long moment. Then nods. "Take care of yourself."
He leaves.
I stand in the foyer, shaking, and try to figure out how long I have before everything falls apart.
Two days.
I get two days of pretending everything's normal before Dr. Volkov calls my father.
I'm in my room when I hear Dad's voice echo through the house.
"AURORA! GET DOWN HERE NOW!"
Oh God.
I take the stairs slowly. Every step feels deliberate, like I'm giving myself time to build walls I know won't hold.
Dad's in his office. Dr. Volkov's gone. The test results are spread across the desk — my test results, the ones I hid in the back of my drawer, the ones I thought no one would find. I can see the highlighted numbers from here.
HCG: Positive.
Estimated gestation: 4 weeks.
Dad's not looking at the papers. He's looking at me.
That's worse.
I've seen him angry before — seen him put men in hospitals, heard the quiet phone calls that ended careers, ended lives.
But those times, his face was readable. Fury I can understand.
This is something else. His expression is closed, settled.
Like he already did the calculations while waiting for me to come down the stairs, and he didn't like the answer, but he has one.
"Sit down, Aurora."
I sit.
He doesn't. He moves to the window, hands clasped behind his back, and looks out at the gardens for a long moment.
"You're pregnant."
Not a question.
"Yes."
"Who is the father?"
Axel. The name sits behind my teeth. I can't say it — can't tell him I gave myself to a man I just met.
"I don't know," I say. The lie tastes like rust.
He turns then. Looks at me with an expression that makes me feel twelve years old and caught and ashamed.
"You don't know," he repeats, very quietly.
"It was—" I stop. There's no version of this sentence that helps me.
"It was what? A mistake?" He crosses to his desk and sits.
Steeples his fingers. "I sent you to university to get an education, Aurora.
To come back with a degree, credentials, and a future that made the investment worthwhile.
I gave you four years of freedom, more than most girls in your position ever see.
" He pauses. "And you came back with this. "
This. Not you're pregnant. Not my grandchild. This. Already, it's just a problem to be managed.
"I'm sorry," I say, because I don't have anything else.
"Sorry is a beginning." He opens a drawer, pulls out a notepad.
Uncaps a pen. The casualness of it is more frightening than shouting would be.
"Now we deal with it. You'll go to the countryside estate tomorrow.
You'll stay there until the baby is born.
Marco will arrange a doctor who comes to you — no hospital, no records that trace back to this house. "
"Dad—"
"I'm not finished." He doesn't raise his voice.
Doesn't need to. "When it's over, we'll discuss what happens next.
What arrangements will be possible for your future, given your circumstances.
There are options." He writes something on the notepad I can't read from here.
"There are always options for a woman who knows how to be discreet. "
My hand goes to my stomach before I can stop it.
He sees. His pen stills.
"I'm keeping the baby," I say.
He stops. Looks at me like I've lost my mind.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm keeping it. I'm not giving it up, I'm not—" My voice breaks. "I'm keeping my baby."
For a long moment, he just stares. Then he laughs. It's not a happy sound.
"Fine. Keep it. Raise a bastard child alone, no husband, no future. See how far that gets you in this world." He turns back to his phone. "But you're doing it at the countryside estate where no one can see our family's shame."
He makes the call. Arranges everything. Doesn't look at me once.
I stand there, hand on my stomach, and realize I'm alone.
More alone than I've ever been.
Axel.
I wish I could call him. Wish I could tell him about the baby, see if he'd—what? Care? Want it? Want me?
He let you walk away.
He did. We agreed this was temporary.
So why does it hurt so much?
I leave for the countryside the next morning.
The estate's two hours away, isolated, surrounded by woods and farmland. It's beautiful in a lonely kind of way.
I'm staying in the guest house. It has three bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a staff of two who only speak to me when needed.
It’s a prison with better furniture.
I unpack my things, set up my laptop, and try not to think about how much I’ve fucked my life over.
I guess I still have to be grateful to my father, because he could have disowned me, thrown me out, or worse still, forced me to terminate this pregnancy.
But here I am, still enjoying little mercies from him.
My phone buzzes.
Chloe: Girl where are you?? You've been MIA.
Tiana: Everything okay? We're worried.
I stare at the messages. Think about telling them. But what would I say?
Hey, remember that silver-haired guy from the club? Yeah, I'm pregnant with his baby, and my dad banished me to the countryside.
No.
Me: Sorry, family stuff. I'm okay. Just settling back in.
Chloe: Bullshit. What's going on?
Me: I'll explain later. Promise.
I silence my phone before they can argue.
Later that night, I pull out my bucket list. Stare at number seven.
Willingly lose my virginity to someone I choose
I completed it. Checked it off.
And now I'm paying the price.
I add a new item at the bottom.
9. Survive the consequences of my actions.
Then I put the list away and try to figure out how to raise a baby alone in a world that will never accept it.
Never accept me.