40 | ☕Anyas Bun Is Baking ☕
Anya sat on the chilly marble floor of Atlas' penthouse bathroom, her back against the clean white cupboards, staring at the five pregnancy tests neatly arranged in front of her. The sleek, modern environment suddenly felt claustrophobic, as if the walls had also heard the sentence.
All five of them screamed the same thing:
Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive.
She gulped, but it didn't do much to relieve the dryness in her mouth or the rising panic up her spine.
Her fingers curled tightly around the last test she'd just used, the plastic stick growing clammy in her trembling grasp.
She could feel her pulse pounding through her veins, a fast, uneven pace that reflected the disarray in her mind.
Her gaze flickered between the tests, as if one—just one—could somehow modify its outcome.
Perhaps she misread them. As if maybe the universe would take pity on her and rewrite reality in the span of a single heartbeat.
But no.
No matter how many times she blinked, how many times she willed the words to shift, the results remained unchanged.
She was pregnant.
The realization hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her, dragging her under. A thousand emotions swirled in her chest—shock, fear, disbelief, a tiny flicker of something unnameable—but she couldn't hold on to any of them long enough to process.
Her body felt simultaneously weightless and impossibly heavy. Her stomach churned, twisting into knots, but she wasn't sure if it was nerves or the first symptoms of morning sickness.
She pressed a hand to her abdomen, her fingers hesitant, almost afraid.
There was a life inside her.
Atlas had just gone for work, barely an hour ago.
His exit had been as simple as it was familiar—a measured, methodical step out the door, hinting at the promise of an ordinary day ahead.
But before he departed, he planted a slow, spine-tingling kiss across her lips, conveying the comfort of habit and unsaid affection.
Now, as she stood in the penthouse's resounding silence, the memory of that kiss seemed like a terrible joke. Today was not an ordinary day.
Her heart pumped violently against her ribs, each pulse resonating with the shock of her new life.
The steady pattern, which had once provided calm, now echoed the insanity spinning within her.
The abrupt transition from ordinary to extraordinary had left her breathless, and every pounding of her heart was a vivid reminder of the life-changing fact she could no longer deny.
"What do I do? What do I do? What do I DO?!" she whispered to herself in sheer panic, the words tumbling out in a frantic repetition.
Then, as if her body were on autopilot, her trembling hand reached out for her phone.
Without a second's hesitation, she found Kaia's contact and pressed the call button.
The moment the call connected, she didn't even pause for a greeting; the urgency of her fear overtook all social niceties.
"KAIA. I'M FREAKING OUT," she blurted out, her voice raw and unfiltered, the panic evident in every syllable.
A sudden, harsh clang erupted from the phone, shattering the tension for a split second, and then came Kaia's voice—confused, amused, and edged with concern.
"First of all, good morning to you, Miss Drama Queen—and second, why do you sound like you're hyperventilating? What is wrong?"
Her remarks came out in an instant, a mix of teasing and genuine concern that only Kaia could conjure.
Anya's heart beat irregularly as she struggled to hold her racing breath.
She took a deep, shuddering inhalation, as if trying to ground herself within the maelstrom of her emotions.
When she finally spoke, her voice was rough and shaking with nervousness.
"I—I think I'm pregnant," she managed to mumble, each syllable laced with fear and bewilderment.
For a long, agonizing minute, there was quiet on the other end of the telephone. The silence was almost louder than Kaia's original barrage—a tense moment laden with unspoken inquiries and anxiety.
Then, in an abrupt and forceful shift, Kaia's tone snapped back into action. "...I'M CLOSING THE CAFé. I'M ON MY WAY. DON'T MOVE." The urgency in her voice was palpable, each word punctuated with a brisk determination that brooked no argument.
Anya blinked, her eyes widening in a mix of shock and relief. "Wait, Kaia, you don't have to—" she began, her voice trailing off into a desperate plea, as if clinging to the familiar comfort of her friend's reassurances.
Before she could finish, there was a sudden, final click—the sound of the line going dead, leaving Anya suspended in the silence that followed, her mind racing and her heart pounding in the eerie quiet of the penthouse bathroom.
She stared at her phone in disbelief, her eyes wide as they darted across the screen. For a moment, she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. Did Kaia really just abandon an entire café full of customers to come to her rescue?
A slow, incredulous smile began to tug at the corners of her lips. Despite the chaos of the moment, there was a comforting certainty in that familiar, wild loyalty of Kaia.
Anya barely had time to process the tumultuous revelation when the sound of the penthouse door slamming open reverberated through the spacious room. Before she could fully gather her thoughts, Kaia burst in like an action hero straight out of a movie, her presence electrifying the space.
Kaia's entrance was as dramatic as it was unexpected.
Still wearing her worn café apron—a testament to the morning's chaos, now marred by a suspicious coffee stain—the friend's eyes burned with determination and wild energy.
She scanned the room with an intensity that made it clear nothing would distract her from the mission at hand.
Her gaze locked onto Anya, who stood in the living room like a survivor fresh from the wreckage of a natural disaster.
Without missing a beat, Kaia stomped over, her heavy footsteps echoing against the polished floors. She seized Anya by the shoulders, her grip firm and reassuring. "Okay. Talk to me. How sure are we that you have a bun in the oven?!" she demanded, her voice a mix of urgency and incredulous humour.
Caught off guard yet comforted by Kaia's unwavering support, Anya wordlessly directed her trembling hand toward the coffee table. There, lying amidst the clutter of the morning's remnants, the evidence of her life-changing moment awaited acknowledgment.
Kaia turned her head—and promptly let out a dramatic gasp, her eyes widening in mock horror. "FIVE TESTS?! GIRL, YOU DIDN'T JUST DOUBLE-CHECK, YOU WENT FULL FBI INVESTIGATION!" Her words tumbled out in rapid succession, each syllable dripping with a mix of disbelief and theatrical amusement.
Anya let out a strangled whimper, her voice quivering with a mix of frustration and relief. "I NEEDED CONFIRMATION!" she insisted, her tone both defensive and desperate.
With a flourish, Kaia released her grip and dramatically collapsed onto the couch, the weight of the moment pulling her down into exaggerated exhaustion.
"Oh my god," she breathed, fanning herself with a hand as though trying to cool a rising inferno of emotion.
"My best friend is pregnant. I need a minute to process this."
Her voice softened just a fraction, the initial shock mingling with tender concern.
Anya groaned, a weary sound of exasperation and uncertainty, before flopping down beside Kaia.
The two friends sat in a brief, silent communion—each lost in their own whirlwind of thoughts.
Finally, Anya broke the stillness. "Kaia, I don't know what to do. Atlas doesn't know. I don't even know how to tell him. What if he freaks out?! What if he doesn't want kids yet?"
Her words spilled out in a cascade of worry, each question laced with the fear of impending confrontation.
Kaia arched an eyebrow, her tone light yet laced with a stubborn optimism.
"Uh, hello? Have you met your fiancé? The man worships the ground you walk on. If anything, I bet he'd build a baby throne and declare your future kid as his heir to his multi-million-dollar empire."
Her playful exaggeration brought a spark of humour to the heavy atmosphere, a reminder of Atlas' usual charm and adoration.
Anya bit her lip, a skeptical frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That's not how that works," she murmured, a mix of incredulity and lingering anxiety in her voice. Despite the reassuring banter, the uncertainty of the future still loomed large between them.
Kaia shrugged, a dismissive yet mischievous smile tugging at her lips.
"Rich people make their own rules. And Atlas is definitely the type to get all possessive over his kid. Like, 'This child shall have everything, no one shall breathe in their direction unless I say so' type of dad," she declared, her tone both mocking and admiring all at once.
Anya groaned, the sound a mix of exasperation and anxiety, and flung a soft, overstuffed pillow over her face in a feeble attempt to hide her turmoil. "I don't even know how to tell myself that I'm pregnant, Kaia! This wasn't planned! What if I'm not ready? What if Atlas isn't ready? What if—"
Before Anya could finish her litany of worries, Kaia's hand shot out, grabbing the pillow and yanking it off her face with determined urgency.
"Anya. Babe. Bestie. Breathe," she commanded, her voice steady and laced with fierce care.
Locking eyes with her friend, Kaia's expression shifted to deadpan sincerity.
"You just survived being kidnapped by a lunatic a few months ago. You can handle pregnancy."
Anya blinked, her eyes wide with incredulity and a lingering trace of panic. Her lips parted slowly as she managed a reluctant rebuttal, "...That is not the same thing."
Kaia threw up her hands in exasperation.
"Okay, bad example. But my point still stands! You and Atlas love each other, and you're engaged. This baby is just, y'know, an early wedding gift from the universe."
Her tone mixed playful sarcasm with genuine reassurance, trying to lighten the gravity of the moment.
Anya narrowed her eyes, her skepticism clear as she retorted, "That's a terrible analogy." The words were soft but carried a weight of disbelief and fear.
Kaia smirked, the mischievous glint in her eye unmistakable. "You love me anyway," she said with a teasing lilt.
Anya groaned in response. "Unfortunately," she muttered, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips despite the tension that still hovered around them.
Not missing a beat, Kaia grinned and swung an arm around Anya's shoulders.
"Look, let's just take this one step at a time, alright? No overthinking. Just tell Atlas when you're ready. And when you do, make sure I'm there so I can see the look on his face when his brain malfunctions," she joked, injecting a burst of levity into the conversation.
Anya couldn't help but snort despite herself, the absurdity of the imagery breaking through some of her panic. "You're the worst," she declared, shaking her head at the familiar banter that always somehow made even the most daunting challenges feel a bit more bearable.
Kaia winked, her confidence unwavering, a playful yet steadfast reminder that she was always there for Anya. "And yet, you called me first," she said, her tone a blend of teasing and tender reassurance.
With a resigned sigh, Anya allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability.
Leaning her head against Kaia's shoulder, she sought solace in the comforting familiarity of her best friend's presence.
The gentle, steady warmth radiating from Kaia seemed to momentarily dull the pounding fear and uncertainty churning within her.
In that quiet exchange, the weight of the world—of impending changes and the unknown—seemed a little lighter.
Pregnant. The word echoed in Anya's mind, each syllable a surreal testament to a future she had never planned for. She was pregnant, and that single, staggering realization reverberated through every fibre of her being.
And yet, amid the swirling chaos of emotions, one terrifying thought anchored itself: she had no idea how to tell Atlas.
The man she loved, whose smile and steady embrace had always been her safe haven, now loomed as the bearer of news that could upend their perfectly ordered world.
How could she possibly explain this sudden twist of fate?