Chapter Fifteen - Zoe
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, holding the pregnancy test kit in my hands. It’s been a full month since that first time I tested, and still—nothing. No period. No sign of relief. Just silence, the kind that makes everything feel heavier with every passing day.
I try to tell myself that I’m just being paranoid, that it’s probably nothing. Still stress. That’s all. Just stress from work, from everything else going on in my life. But deep down, I’m starting to realize that this might just be more than that.
I stare at the kit, my fingers trembling slightly as I try to convince myself this is just a precautionary measure.
I don’t want to face it. I don’t want to admit that I’m even considering the possibility.
But there’s a tightness in my chest, a knot I can’t untangle, and I know that I can’t keep pretending everything is fine.
I breathe in deeply, trying to steady my nerves, and then I follow the instructions, peeing on the kit. My heart is pounding in my chest as I set it on the bathroom counter, the little timer flashing on the side, counting down the seconds.
I shut my eyes with a groan, pressing the heels of my palms against my forehead.
What have I gotten myself into?
The room feels too quiet, the ticking of the timer filling the space around me. My thoughts race, spiraling in a way I can’t control. Every scenario plays out in my head—what if the test is positive? What would that mean for me? For my life? For everything I’ve worked for?
And then there’s him—Lukin. The thought of him makes my chest tighten. I’ve tried to block him out, to pretend like nothing happened, but I can’t. He’s still there, lingering in my mind, a constant presence that won’t let me forget.
I haven’t seen him in over two months and my brain hasn’t registered it yet, that it’s over. Our little fling is over. Thank goodness. I can’t imagine seeing him again. That man makes me do reckless things.
I take another shaky breath, trying to calm myself. The timer on the kit goes off, and I force my eyes open, not sure if I’m ready to see what’s staring back at me.
I don’t want to look. I don’t want to know. But the little window on the test stares back at me, and I can feel it, the weight of it, even before I glance down.
I do it anyway. I force my eyes to the kit, and there it is—the two pink lines. Clear. Undeniable.
Pregnant.
The word flashes in my mind, over and over again, and I can’t process it.
For a moment, the room spins. I’m barely aware of my body sinking to the floor, my knees buckling as I land with a thud.
My hands are shaking so badly I can’t even hold the test anymore.
I drop it on the floor, my head in my hands, trying to breathe through the panic that’s rising in my chest.
How did this happen?
I try to tell myself it’s not real, that maybe there’s some mistake. But I know it’s true. It’s right there, staring back at me. And all I can think of is him. Lukin.
Maria’s father.
What does this mean for me? I’m not ready for this. I can’t be. I don’t know how to cope with this, with everything that’s changed in an instant. The future I thought I had planned—my work, my life—feels like it’s slipping away from me, disappearing into something I don’t recognize.
Tears prick at my eyes, but I fight them back. I can’t fall apart. I have to figure this out. I need to make a decision, but I don’t even know where to begin.
What am I going to do?
My thoughts turn to Maria, to my best friend. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks, haven’t really talked to her since that morning in Lukin’s apartment. She’d been cold with me, distant. But now I realize—I’ve been the one pushing her away.
I’ve been so wrapped up in my own guilt, in the secret I’m keeping from her, that I stopped reaching out. I’ve been withdrawing from her, making excuses. It wasn’t Maria who changed—it was me.
I can feel the weight of it all. The guilt. The shame. The silence between us.
And now, I realize just how far apart we’ve grown in such a short amount of time. I’m not sure how to fix it. I’ve failed her. I can’t even explain why. How do I tell her what’s happened? How do I tell her about this baby? How do I tell her about Lukin?
The only person I’ve really talked to in the last few weeks is Jenni. She’s been there for me, but she’s too focused on her exams to really see what’s happening. I can’t lay this on her right now. Not with everything else she’s dealing with.
Basically, I have no one.
I feel more alone than I ever have. My life feels like it’s slipping through my fingers, and all I can do is sit here, frozen, with no idea how to move forward.
My breath comes in shallow bursts, my mind racing, spiraling, until I can barely breathe.
I have no idea what I’m going to do.
The weight of everything presses down on me—on my chest, on my mind. I can’t think straight. The world feels too heavy, too overwhelming. I don’t know how to take the first step, don’t know where to even start.
I consider calling Lukin.
The thought is terrifying, the temptation strong, but my pride holds me back. He told me to leave. He told me to never show myself again. And I believe him. He meant it. I know he did. I remember the coldness in his voice, the finality in the way he spoke.
I can feel the sting of his words even now.
But despite everything, despite the anger, the hurt, the pride—there’s this tiny voice inside me that tells me to reach out to him, to tell him what’s happening, to ask for help, that he would know what to do.
But I can’t bring myself to do it.
The silence between us is already suffocating, and I know that if I call him, if I seek him out, I’m admitting that I need him.
I’m afraid of what that means.
I think back to that night—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at me, like I belonged to him. Like I was his and he had a claim on me that I didn’t understand but couldn’t deny.
And now?
With the pregnancy… I can’t shake the thought. With the baby growing inside me, I kind of do belong to him.
A knot forms in my stomach, the realization settling in like a cold, heavy weight. I’m tied to him in a way I can’t escape. This isn’t just about him anymore. It’s about something bigger. Something I’m not ready for, but it’s happening.
I push the thought away, but it sticks to me like a shadow.
He never asked for this. He never asked for me. He didn’t even want me in his life.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
I shake my head, the dizziness of it all spinning me in circles.
I can’t keep doing this, this back-and-forth between wanting to reach out to him and wanting to run away.
There’s a knock on the door, and I freeze. I’ve been avoiding everyone lately—trying to keep my head straight, trying to deal with the mess I’ve found myself in—but now, the sound is pulling me back into the reality I’ve been running from.
I walk to the sink and splash cold water on my face, trying to shake off the fatigue, the dizziness, but it lingers. My reflection stares back at me, tired, uncertain.
I don’t want to deal with anyone right now.
I hurry to the front door, peeking through the peephole, and my stomach tightens when I see who it is.
Jason.
I frown, not sure what to feel. Since everything started to spiral out of control with Lukin, since the art event, Jason and I have been talking more. A lot more. He’s been texting me every day, calling occasionally, and—against my better judgment—I’ve allowed it.
I’ve let him in, little by little. But that doesn’t mean he has the right to show up at my door.
He knocks again, a little more urgently this time. I sigh, not wanting to deal with this, but I unlock the door and open it with a frown.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone more frustrated than I mean it to be.
“I’ve been texting you for days, and you didn’t respond,” Jason says, his voice concerned, his expression almost guilty. “I was so worried.”
I roll my eyes, irritated by his dramatics. I can’t help it. “Jason, you’re being dramatic.”
He gives me a sheepish smile, clearly not getting the hint that I’m not in the mood. But he steps forward anyway, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“Here, for you,” he says, extending them toward me.
I don’t have the energy to argue, so I take them, forcing a smile as I thank him. “Thanks.” I step aside. “Come in.”
I head into the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase while Jason makes himself comfortable in my living room. As I fill the vase and place it on the kitchen counter, my thoughts wander again. I can’t help but wonder if Jason can tell.
Can he tell I’m pregnant?
I haven’t even processed it all, but from what I can feel, from what I’ve been tracking, I should be about two months pregnant. My breath catches in my throat as I think about it—two months.
Damn.
The realization hits me harder than ever. The gravity of it is crushing, suffocating. Damn it, I can’t even think about this right now. I’m not ready to face the truth.
Jason’s voice breaks my spiraling thoughts. He’s standing just behind me now, close enough that I can feel his presence but far enough to make it feel casual.
“So, how’s everything been going?” he asks, casual, trying to fill the silence between us.
I force a smile, trying to mask my inner turmoil. “Busy, you know… just work.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing there’s something more. “You sure? You’ve been quiet lately.”
I nod, trying to avoid his gaze. “Yeah. Just a lot on my plate.”
Jason’s smile falters, but he doesn’t push. “Well, I’m here if you want to talk. You know that.”
I don’t know how to respond. He’s trying to be considerate, but I can’t talk to him about this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I nod, hoping that’s enough as I lead him back to the living room.
“I’m going to this gala soon,” he says, almost casually as we sit on the couch. “It’s a big event for the art community. I was wondering if you’d come with me—be my partner for the night again?”
I freeze for a moment, turning to look at him. The last art fundraiser we attended was really fun and the caliber of people I met were interesting, which wasn’t surprising since Jason came from money. But now things were different. I agreed to go that time because I needed a distraction from Lukin.
Now I’m pregnant!
“I don’t know, Jason,” I say, my voice a little too hesitant. “I’m not really in the mood for it.”
He doesn’t take my hesitation personally, though. He smiles that familiar, easy grin of his, the one that makes everything seem just a little bit lighter, even when I’m struggling to keep it together.
“Come on, Zoe,” he insists, his tone playful. “You need a night out. You’ve been cooped up, working nonstop. You’re going to have fun. It’ll be good to get out, trust me. Nothing romantic. Fully platonic. I promise. Scout’s honor.”
I sigh, knowing full well he’s right. I need to get out of this headspace. I need something to distract me. It won’t fix everything, but it might offer a temporary escape.
“Okay,” I say finally, the words slipping out before I can fully think them through. “I’ll go with you.”
Jason’s face lights up immediately, the relief in his expression making my stomach twist slightly. I can tell he’s happy about it, but I’m not sure why. I hope he knows that now more than ever, there’s no future for us. Not when I’m carrying another man’s child.
“You should leave,” I finally say. “I’ve been so stressed; I need to rest.”