CHAPTER 75: TWO LINES

Chapter 75

Some days later. New city.

Amanda had been feeling her body was off for days or weeks but always shrugged it off. She rarely ate, restlessness—even nausea—came in waves and left her weak. Yet she thought it was just stress.

The stress and panic that Marcus had found her in the new city. How could he get to her so quickly?

He had texted, "My favourite cum bucket, how are you enjoying your vacation? You can’t run away from me. My eyes are always on you. Enjoy it while it lasts!"

Amanda’s hand had trembled when she read the text. She even whipped her head around, fearing Marcus would just appear behind her.

And fear had nested so deep in her bones that she couldn’t tell when he would appear after that taunting message. Maybe her lack of appetite and sleep were from anxiety and guilt.

Amanda told herself it would pass, that Marcus would get tired of her soon if she just kept busy, kept pretending everything was fine—being Aaron’s perfect wife, always composed, poised, and elegant—then it would go away. She told herself to eat. To smile. To sleep. But her body wasn’t listening.

Then it dawned on her that she had missed her period. She couldn’t believe it at first, then asked one of the hotel staff to get her a pregnancy test. So there she was.

Amanda had sat on the edge of the bathtub, shaky knees pressed together, the unopened pregnancy test box resting on her thighs, and she gulped, her hand trembling as she reached for it.

She didn’t want to believe what her instincts were screaming. No, it couldn’t be possible. She shook her head profusely not to jinx it. It was stress and exhaustion fucking with her.

Her fingers moved slowly, as if her body was no longer hers. She tore open the box, pulled out the stick, and read the instructions twice before following them. She did everything right, even though her vision blurred with tears as she waited.

One minute.

Her chest thumped.

Two minutes.

Her chest thudded.

And then it happened.

Two lines.

Two red lines.

Positive.

Amanda froze. Her breathing figuratively and literally stopped, yet her heart, however, pounded so loudly that she could hear it echo in her ears. Her eyes stayed fixed on the test stick, unmoving from shock.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

Her mouth went dry, her limbs went numb as the tiny object in her hand became heavier than anything she had ever held. And the tears came, hot and uncontrollable, spilling down her cheeks as she bent over and let out a broken sob.

Pregnant.

Panic surged its way through her chest like wildfire. This wasn’t something she could erase or hide anymore. This wasn’t something she could ignore, delete, or bury. Her infidelity, her affair, her secret had now become real. And it was inside her.

A baby.

A baby from an affair.

A baby that wasn’t for her husband—Aaron.

How could she explain the pregnancy—she wasn’t the Holy Mary to explain the pregnancy through a miracle. Aaron hadn’t touched her throughout the course of their marriage. He never slept in the same room with her.

How would she explain the baby?

Their marriage was for appearances, a contract with a deadline that was knocking faster than she could think. Their marriage had no affection, no intimacy, no attraction—just husband and wife on paper. Yet she was pregnant.

Amanda pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, trying to muffle her sobs. The bathroom felt too small, the walls too tight for her, making her chest constrict from panic. Shame crashed over her, suffocating and choking her mercilessly as she realized she was having a baby for her abuser.

Marcus.

She thought about every time he had forced himself on her, every time he called her to a motel room or his apartment, or even the parking lot. It was always quick, violent, always without protection, no condom or withdrawal. Always came in her and told her to keep all in her without removing.

God! She rubbed her hands on her face. She was pregnant for Marcus. She was now carrying a piece of him inside her. A baby monster was living inside her stomach.

"No. No. No," she whispered, clutching her head as if the words could undo what had already been done. She gripped the test tighter, shaking her head vehemently.

This can’t be happening.

But it had happened.

And it was a fucking nightmare.

Amanda curled onto the floor, the cold tile doing nothing to numb the storm inside her as her hand still held the test like a curse. Her whole body trembled.

How was she supposed to explain this? How could she tell anyone? Aaron would think twice before breaking away from her, Brenda would destroy her, and her father... her poor father would die from the shame.

There must be something to be done.

Amanda prided herself on always being the composed one—the one with perfect posture, perfect makeup, perfect manners—and yet everything she had built was coming undone, crumbling in all places.

She stood up after a long time, her legs stiff, knees aching as she looked in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin pale, lips trembling. Her reflection didn’t even look like her.

Amanda Knight. The woman everyone envied.

She looked away.

Her hand drifted to her belly. It didn’t look like anything yet. But she felt it deep in her bone marrow that something was in her stomach, something growing.

Should she talk to Marcus about it? She shook her head. That monster mustn’t know about it. She gulped and threw the stick away. It can’t be real.

Yes, it wasn’t always 100% correct. It must be a dream. She had to go confirm at the hospital, she said to herself with conviction.

And she turned, walked out of the bathroom, her steps forced, her mind spiraling.

It had to be a lie.

A perfect lie to mess with her.