Dorathy
I thought killing the mafia boss was my triumph my final victory. But it wasn't.
His men began hunting me down, determined to avenge him by ending my life. Somehow, whether by luck or fate, I always managed to escape their traps.
Exhaling heavily, I forced myself to calm down and settle my chaotic thoughts. Just as I closed my eyes, my phone rang.
"Hello, Lily. How are you?" I answered, trying to sound composed.
Her troubled voice came through the line.
"Not fine, sis. It's about my tuition fees…"
I sighed, my gaze drifting to the ceiling as a sad smile tugged at my lips.
"Don't worry. I'll transfer the money to you later. I just need some rest right now."
Her voice brightened instantly.
"Oh my God! Thank you so much!" she squealed in excitement.
I couldn't help but smile at her joy. Seeing my sister happy was one of the few comforts I had left something that warmed my heart even in the wreckage of my life.
But guilt lingered, heavy in my chest.
What if I had just given in to the mafia boss the first time he demanded it? Would everything still be normal now? Would my father still be alive? Would we still be a happy, wealthy family?
But no. Things had descended into this darkness, and there was no turning back. I had to live with it, no matter how painful.
Lying back on the bed, I sighed deeply, my thoughts restless once again.
I thought about the one night stand with that wealthy stranger. I didn't even know his health status.
A wave of dread crashed over me.
What if I had contracted a deadly disease?
Or worse what if I was pregnant?
"Ah, I'm so screwed," I muttered bitterly, tossing my phone aside.
But whatever was coming my way... I'd face it.
With that silent vow, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
****
When I woke, it was already afternoon. I groaned I'd overslept and my stomach grumbled loudly, reminding me I hadn't eaten. I got out of bed, hurried to the kitchen, and began preparing a simple meal.
To my surprise, my mother was still asleep. Ever since everything happened, the once strong and courageous woman had become so fragile, so weak.
Tears stung my eyes, but I fought them back. My chest felt like it was being crushed by invisible pressure. Dropping the spoon into the pot, I sank to the floor and sobbed, my chest heaving as grief wracked my body.
I had brought misfortune upon my family.
After a few moments, I wiped my tears and stood up only to find that my mother had seen everything. She'd witnessed my breakdown.
I quickly cleaned my face, putting on a mask of strength.
"Mother… it was nothing," I said, trying to sound lighthearted.
Her eyes shimmered with tears, and my heart clenched at the pity in her gaze. A tear slipped down her cheek, and I gently wiped it away.
"Mother, please don't cry. I'm alright," I said with a forced smile.
"i'm supposed to be the one asking you if you're alright," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
"Mother, I'm preparing lunch," I said quickly, hoping to change the subject.
But she wasn't fooled.
"Cut the act and come here," she said softly, stretching out her hands.
I moved into her embrace, overwhelmed by the comfort it offered. My tears returned flowing freely as I poured out my pain.
When I was finally done, I pulled away and whispered, "Thank you, Mother."
"Don't overthink everything, Dorathy," she said with a gentle smile. "You can't control what's already happened. And it's not your fault."
Her words lightened some of the burden in my heart.
Later, when the cake I was baking was done, I set it on the dining table and wheeled my mother over. We ate together, washing it down with chilled apple juice.
Afterward, I cleared the table and returned to my room. Grabbing a novel, I read for a while before moving on to other tasks.
*****
One Month Later
I woke up feeling unusually tired, but I didn't complain. I'd worked overtime last night and hadn't returned home until just before midnight.
Thankfully, I hadn't been attacked by the mafia group lately, but I knew better than to let my guard down. They were surely planning something. I remained alert, walking the streets like a ghost unseen, unnoticed.
Someone had been following me for days now, but they were skilled always disappearing just when I tried to catch them.
After finishing the house chores, I prepared breakfast. My mother and I ate together, though I still felt sick. I didn't show it. I didn't want to worry her.
Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed, completely drained.
Why this sudden weakness? I wondered, unease gnawing at my chest.
I wandered into the kitchen, grabbed some popcorn, and tried to distract myself with a movie. But halfway through, an intense wave of nausea surged through me.
I bolted to the bathroom, vomiting violently until I was left weak and trembling. My forehead was burning.
I can't afford to be sick now. I need to be strong for my family.
Forcing myself to my feet, I slipped into a deep blue, knee length denim gown and a sandals. I tied my hair into a bun and put on thick, dark sunglasses to conceal my identity.
Without waking my sleeping mother, I left the house. As I walked the streets, I remained vigilant. Someone was still following me but they didn't seem threatening, so I ignored them.
When I reached the hospital, I removed my sunglasses and waited in line for my appointment card. After several minutes, I was called in, and a series of tests were conducted.
I sat nervously in the waiting room, fidgeting, discomfort twisting in my gut.
Finally, the doctor entered with a smile.
"Miss Ray, congratulations. You're one month pregnant."
I froze.
Disbelief washed over me in waves.
Why me?
I regretted everything the one night stand with that wealthy stranger whose health status I didn't even know.
How could I be pregnant when I wasn't even sure I'd live long enough to raise a child?
"I'll abort it," I declared coldly.
Before the doctor could respond, the door swung open.
To my utter shock, someone I never expected stepped into the room.