Julia's heart raced as Victor's question hung in the air. When was her last period? She felt a pit in her stomach. She gulped, trying to find her voice.
Victor's eyes blazed with anger, and his jaw tightened. "When was your last period? Answer me, Julia!" he demanded.
Fear gripped her as she looked at Victor's enraged face. His fury was unlike anything she had seen. "I-I'm sure I'll get my period. I-I must have eaten something bad," It was all she managed to say, though she was equally lost.
His harsh glare softened slightly, but his eyes still burned. He stepped closer, poking her forehead lightly. "Remember this, Julia. Just because I'm still coming home doesn't mean I still love you. It doesn't mean we'll fix things. I will never accept what happened to you," he spat before turning away.
As her husband walked away, Julia felt tears spill over, warm on her cheeks. Feeling weak, she sank to the floor beside the sink, her tears falling freely.
Why was this happening to her? Why couldn't anyone see her pain? Why did Victor have to look at her like that? Why does her husband have to treat her like this?
A few moments passed as she tried to breathe steadily. She pulled out her phone from her dress pocket and glanced at the calendar. Her breath hitched—she was a month and a half late for her period.
It should have come the week of that painful "night." Yet here she was, weeks later, still waiting for it her period to show.
She wasn't irregular; her period was always on time. That only added to her panic. But what if it was just stress? She remembered reading that extreme stress could mess with a woman's cycle.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she returned to her tasks in the kitchen. She shouldn't dwell on those worries. Instead, she needed to focus on fixing her relationship with Victor.
Suddenly, she sensed the housemaids approaching. "Miss Julia, we will clean that up. You should rest. We made some snacks for you,"
The sight of freshly baked cookies and a glass of cold milk awaited her on the table. Cookies were her favorite treat, especially with chilled milk on the side.
A wave of hunger hit her after the fight with Victor. Her stomach had been upset, but maybe it was just hunger—milk might calm her down.
Julia settled into the dining chair, her eyes still glistening with tears. She picked up a cookie and dipped it into the cold milk, hoping for comfort.
The moment she took a bite, a grimace crossed her face. What was wrong with it? It was sweet, but not the sweetness she craved. It felt empty. She then tried the cold milk, but it was sour, twisting her stomach uncomfortably.
"Is the milk spoiled? Why does this taste off?" she asked the housemaid standing nearby, her confusion evident.
The maid frowned, puzzled as well. "Miss Julia, the milk isn't spoiled. It was just bought fresh from the grocery. Maybe your stomach isn't well, and that's affecting your taste," she replied gently.
At that moment, Julia felt stunned into silence. She left her food untouched and hurried to the master's bedroom, certain Victor was already at work, leaving her alone to think.
Dark thoughts began swirling in her mind, thoughts she didn't want to face. An idea crept in, one she desperately tried to ignore. Could it be…?
She quickly shook her head, trying to banish the thought. No way! That was impossible!
Today, she needed answers—she had to know if her hunch was right. She felt like she'd go mad if she just sat here.
After quickly changing her clothes, she grabbed her small sling bag, feeling the weight of her money and wallet inside. The housemaids looked surprised as she headed for the door.
"Where are you going, Miss Julia? Sir Victor might ask about you are, and we'll have no answer. We'll get in trouble," an older woman said, concern creasing her brow.
A quiet laugh escaped her lips, but it sounded hollow. It felt impossible. Did her husband even care anymore? Maybe he would rather she left for good. But that wasn't an option. She loved Victor deeply, and even with her hurt feelings from his lack of understanding, she couldn't bear losing him.
Before God, they had made a solemn vow. In joy and sorrow, they were meant to stand together. She would cling to their marriage with every ounce of strength until her last breath. No matter how hard it got, she would wait for her husband's love to come back to her. She would do anything to earn his forgiveness.
In Victor's eyes, she betrayed him. She had shattered his trust, and the precious gift she once could have given him felt lost forever.
"I-I'm just stepping out to buy something. I'll be back quick, don't worry," she said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes, trying to reassure them.
She continued walking, pushing past them, knowing they wouldn't try to stop her. A small pharmacy waited just outside the village. Her hands trembled as she told the pharmacist she needed five pregnancy tests.
She nearly dashed out of the pharmacy. At the nearby shopping mall, she felt safer to carry out her plan—at least there, no one recognized her.
As she walked to the public restroom, it felt like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. In the farthest cubicle, she closed the door and focused her thoughts.
With whispered prayers, she hoped her fears were unfounded. After placing her urine on the test strip, she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for a miracle.
"God, I know so many couples dream of having children. But I'm not ready to be a mother, especially to an innocent child unaware of our mess. I can't give my child a complete, happy family. Please don't let our lives be destroyed…" she prayed, tears stinging her eyes.
Each passing minute felt like an eternity. It was as if she had forgotten how to breathe. The cold air surrounded her, yet sweat broke out on her skin, fueled by the stress and tension surging through her.
The sound of a ticking clock echoed in her mind, even there's no fucking clock. She stared at her pale palms, anxiety coursing through her. Sitting on the toilet bowl, she shifted nervously, then blew on her hands, trying to warm them.
The sudden buzz of her phone alarm sliced through the silence, signaling it was time to check the pregnancy test.
As her heart raced, she felt as if the nearby cubicle could hear it thumping in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage; being afraid wouldn't help her now.
Her gaze fell on the first pregnancy test. Two lines stared back at her.
She held her breath tight, then glanced at the second test—two lines again, bright and clear.
Heat rose in her cheeks as she checked the third test; just like the first, it showed two lines.
Stunned, she looked at the fourth and final test. All of them showed the same result: two lines. It hit her—she was pregnant!
Slowly, she sank to the floor of the cubicle, the news crashing down on her. She was pregnant… pregnant!
She should be filled with joy, ready to celebrate. Yet, why did her heart feel heavy? It was as if she stood in a courtroom, waiting for her sentence.
Why did her feelings clash with what she expected? There was no happiness, only a sharp fear for herself and the child.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, making it hard to breathe in the cramped cubicle, emotions crashing over her like waves. In frustration, she kicked the toilet bowl and the small trash can beside her.
Why was this happening to her…?
Why her?
What had she done to deserve this? Why was life throwing such challenges her way?
She wasn't perfect person, yet she believed she was good at heart. So why was this happening to her? Why did an innocent child have to be dragged into her chaotic life?
She was certain Dante did withdrawal method since they hadn't used protection. Yet here she was, still pregnant. She didn't want Dante to know about any of this—he'd only be crushed further; she couldn't drag him into this mess anymore.
And Victor? She could already picture the disgust in his eyes. He would hate her and never forgive her for this.
What was she supposed to do now?
Her mother's face flashed in her mind, causing her emotions to surge again. She wiped the tears away and slowly pushed herself off the floor, shoving the pregnancy tests into the trash can.
She needed to reach out to her mother. Her family was her lifeline during times like this. Dialing her mother's number, she felt relieved when her mother quickly picked up.
"Julia? Sweetheart, I'm so glad you called. How is married life treating you?" Her mother's cheerful tone felt like a sharp contrast to her own feelings.
Yet inside, her heart felt heavy. It was as if half of her spirit had been snuffed out.
Silence hung between them, and she couldn't answer her mother. She squeezed her eyes shut and finally said, "Mom… I'm pregnant."
A sharp gasp erupted from the other end of the call.