After my breakup, I had a one-night stand with a stranger—his presence was terrifying. I couldn’t bear the thought of carrying the child of a monster. But then, everything changed when I uncovered an astonishing truth. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as I sat in the cold, white-walled office. My hands were clenched tightly on my lap, nails digging into my palms. The doctor walked in, her face soft, her smile almost too kind for what she was about to say. “Congratulations, Leila,” she began, her voice gentle. “You’re pregnant.” The words hit me like a thunderclap. My chest tightened, and the room felt suddenly smaller. Pregnant? No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this. The memory came crashing down like a tidal wave, sweeping the air from my lungs. George. He broke up with me. “It’s not you, Leila. It’s me. I just… I can’t do this anymore.” I could still see the cold resolve in his eyes, the finality in his tone. I grabbed my coat and stumbled out of my apartment, desperate for an escape. The streets blurred as I made my way to the nearest bar, my head spinning with anger and heartbreak. Inside, the dim lights cast shadows over the faces of strangers. I slid onto a barstool, slamming my purse down. “Whiskey. Straight,” I said, my voice trembling. The bartender raised an eyebrow but poured the drink without a word. I’m an orphan—no parents, no siblings, nothing. The one person I ever loved, truly loved, was George. But now… now I have no one. I downed the first glass, then another. Each burn in my throat felt like it might numb the ache in my chest. A man sitting nearby leaned over. “Rough night?” he asked, his voice smooth but tinged with curiosity. “Mind your own business,” I snapped, waving at the bartender for another drink. But he didn’t take the hint. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it.” I turned to him, my eyes blazing. “What do you know about it? Have you ever had your heart ripped out and stomped on?” He chuckled softly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Fair point. Just thought you could use some company.” I didn’t answer. I just kept drinking, sinking deeper into the haze. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a strange bed. The light filtering through the curtains was blinding, and my head pounded like a drum. Panic shot through me as I looked around. A hotel room. “What the hell…”
I started the day hunched over the toilet bowl, my stomach twisting like a wrung-out rag. “Fantastic,” I muttered hoarsely, wiping my mouth. “Another perfect morning.” The mirror above the sink was no help. My hair hung limp, my eyes dull with exhaustion, and dark circles loomed like permanent shadows. If pregnancy came with a glow, mine must’ve been on back order. After splashing cold water on my face, I trudged into the kitchen and reached for my pack of cigarettes on the counter. One drag—just one—might help me feel normal again. “Seriously?” Leila’s voice cut through the silence. She was leaning against the fridge, arms crossed, her eyebrows raised. “Leila, don’t start,” I sighed, shaking a cigarette loose. Before I could light it, she snatched it from my hand. “What the hell?” I snapped, glaring at her. “What the hell, indeed!” she fired back, waving a piece of paper in her other hand—the pregnancy report. I froze. “Where did you get that?” “It was on the bathroom sink, genius,” she said, her voice softening. “And I hate to break it to you, mama bear, but smoking’s officially off the table.” “Leila…” My voice cracked, and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. She stepped closer, placing the cigarette and the report on the counter. “Look, I know this is a lot. I know it’s scary. But you’re not doing this alone. I’m here, even if it means wrestling cigarettes out of your hand every morning.” I reached for the cigarette pack on the counter, only for Leila to slap my hand away. “Seriously?” I groaned, clutching my stinging fingers. “One cigarette won’t hurt the baby.” Leila’s eyes narrowed as she snatched the pack and held it up like evidence in a courtroom. “One leads to two, and two leads to you chain-smoking like a chimney. Nope. Not happening.” “Leila, give it back.” “Not a chance.” She spun on her heel and tossed the pack into the trash. “You’re unbelievable!” I snapped. Cigarettes had been my escape since I was sixteen. They’d carried me through the stress of college, through assignments, and sleepless nights. This felt like an attack on my sanity. “You’re pregnant, not invincible,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “If you want a bad habit, you can start drinking herbal tea. It’s safe and soothing.” I rolled my eyes. “What’s next? Are you going to cut off my Wi-Fi so I don’t stay up too late?” Her face turned serious. “Funny you mention that. Last night, you were on your laptop at 4 a.m., and don’t think I didn’t notice.” I groaned. “Leila, I’m finishing my dissertation. I need to graduate.” “You also need to sleep, or do you want a baby born exhausted from the womb?” she countered, her tone sharp. “Fine!” I threw my hands up. “You win. No smoking, early bedtime, and chamomile tea for life. Anything else?” Leila smirked, but her expression softened as she grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge. “Now that we’re clear on that, have you thought about… him?”
My chest tightened. I knew exactly who she meant, but the last thing I wanted was this conversation. “I don’t even know where to start, Leila,” I admitted quietly. “We didn’t exchange numbers. I don’t even know his last name.” Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re telling me you had a one-night stand and didn’t get his number?” I winced. “It was… a complicated night.” Leila grabbed her coat, determination blazing in her eyes. “Alright, we’re going to the hotel. We’ll find him.” I shook my head. “He doesn’t live there. He said he was staying for a week—just passing through.” She froze, then snapped her fingers. “The bar. Someone there might know him.” “Leila, this is ridiculous,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “What’s ridiculous,” she shot back, “is you acting like this isn’t a big deal. You’re having his baby.” “I know that!” I snapped, my voice cracking. “You think I’m not scared out of my mind? I don’t even know where to start!” Leila softened, stepping closer. “Then let me help. But you can’t shut down on me, okay?” I nodded weakly, barely able to meet her eyes. Then she frowned, a new thought dawning. “Wait. What’s his name?” I froze. “Don’t tell me…” Her eyes widened. “You don’t know his name.” I swallowed hard. “Are you serious?” she hissed. “You don’t even know the name of the guy whose kid you’re carrying?” “It was one night!” I shot back. “I didn’t think—” “Clearly,” she interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay. No judgment. But we’re finding him. Name or no name.” “And if we don’t?” I whispered. Her expression softened, but her tone stayed firm. “Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” “W-What?” I stammered, staring at Leila in disbelief. “You found him?” She grinned, leaning against the doorframe like she’d won the lottery. “Found your baby daddy. You’re welcome.” My chest tightened. “How?” She smirked. “Went back to the bar. Bartender remembered him—apparently, he’s a regular.” I blinked, heart racing. “You just… asked?” Leila shrugged, but her smugness was impossible to miss. “I might’ve flirted a little. Maybe bought him a round. Details don’t matter.” I crossed my arms. “Leila…” “Relax!” she interrupted, pulling a napkin from her pocket. “Look.” I stared at the name scribbled on it: Mark Adonis. Below it, a phone number. My hands trembled as I took it. “Call him,” Leila said firmly. “Now?” My voice wavered, every instinct screaming to delay. “Yes, now,” she snapped, her gaze sharp. “He deserves to know. And so do you.” I gripped the napkin, my pulse roaring in my ears. There was no running from this anymore. I felt my breath quicken as I unlocked my phone, staring at the keypad. This was it. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat louder than the last. I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I dialed his number. The phone rang. Once. Twice. I swore I could hear my own pulse in my ears. By the fifth ring, I could feel the cold sweat gathering on the back of my neck. This was the moment. Seven. Eight. The line cut to voicemail. “It’s gone to voicemail,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. A strange relief washed over me. Leila shot up from the bed. “Leave a message! Now!” I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the button to end the call. But Leila’s frantic gestures pushed me forward. I put the phone back to my ear, the beep almost echoing in the silence. “Uh, hi,” I stuttered, my throat dry. “It’s Elena… we met a few months ago at the bar.” Leila glared at me, silently urging me to keep going. “I—I need to talk to you about something. It’s important. Please call me back.” I rushed the last words out, my voice shaking. “Shit! What do I do?” I hissed, waving my phone in front of Leila. “What does this mean?” Leila’s eyes widened in shock, and she grabbed the phone from my hand, accepting the call before I could blink. She slammed the phone on speaker, leaning in close. “Talk,” she hissed under her breath. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I stared at the screen. What the hell was I supposed to say? “Hello?” A deep, gravelly voice answered after a few seconds of agonizing silence. I froze, looking at Leila, who was now gesturing wildly for me to speak. I couldn’t find my words. “Hello?” His voice grew impatient.
“Hi.” My voice cracked as I squeaked out the word. “Hi,” I repeated, louder this time, though my nerves rattled. “Elena? What do you need to talk about?” His tone was direct, almost demanding. I swallowed hard. “I—I think we should meet. This can’t be said over the phone.” There was a long pause. “Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Where?” I blinked, surprised by how easily he agreed. I hadn’t expected this. I ran a hand through my hair. “Uh… my place?” I offered weakly, though I could tell Leila was stifling a laugh. She shot me a look and mouthed café before nodding towards the door. He chuckled lightly. “Fine. Two o’clock. Does that work?” I nodded quickly, heart pounding. “Yeah, perfect.” “See you then,” he said before hanging up. I exhaled sharply, eyes closing as anxiety clenched my chest. Tomorrow. It had to be done. Leila’s voice cut through my thoughts. “He sounds hot.” I snapped my eyes open. “He is.” I couldn’t help but remember how he looked at me that night—powerful, magnetic. I’d been drawn to him instantly. Leila smirked. “He thinks you’re after a repeat of that night.” I groaned. “No. It’s not like that.” She mimicked his voice dramatically, “My place,” before bursting into laughter. “Not funny,” I muttered, but she was still laughing. At the coffee bar
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