Chapter 211 Two months Later

Chapter 211 Two months Later


~Miranda’s POV~

Two months had gone by, and my body felt different.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, lifting my shirt. My stomach was starting to show just a small bump that wasn’t there before. I touched it gently. It still felt unreal. Some mornings, I hoped it was all a bad dream. Other days, the nausea and tiredness reminded me it was real.

My breasts felt heavier, and my back hurt all the time. No matter how much I tried to eat, I either threw up or didn’t want to eat at all. The morning sickness was worse. Some days, I couldn’t even keep water down.

I was scared.

Not just about being pregnant, but about everything that came with it.

I still hadn’t told my dad.

Every time I thought about calling him, my chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. I knew how that conversation would go. He would call me a disgrace again. He would say I ruined my life. And maybe he would be right.

I dropped my shirt and left the bathroom. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. I spent most of my days alone, only going out when I had to. Paul visited sometimes, but even he looked worried when he saw me.

I sat on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. My hand rested on my stomach without me realizing it.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” I whispered to the tiny life inside me. “I don’t even know who you belong to.”

That was what scared me the most.

Victor was in prison. Even if this baby was his, he wouldn’t be part of its life. But the thought of carrying his child made me uneasy. And if it wasn’t his… then it was Julian’s. And I still hadn’t told him.

I had been avoiding that talk for two months.

My phone rang on the table. It was Paul.

I answered.

“Hey,” I said quietly.

“You sound tired,” Paul said gently. “Did you eat today?”

I let out a small laugh. “I tried. It didn’t stay down long.”

There was a pause.

“Miranda,” he said, “you can’t keep doing this alone. You need to tell someone. At least your dad. Or Julian. Someone.”

I closed my eyes.

“I can’t tell my dad,” I said. “He’ll never forgive me. He already thinks I’m a failure. This will just prove him right.”

“You’re not a failure,” Paul replied. “You’re pregnant. And you’re scared. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

I stayed quiet for a moment.

“I keep thinking about what I should do,” I admitted. “Some days I think I should just… get rid of it. Start over. Pretend none of this ever happened. Other days, I feel guilty for even thinking that. It’s not the baby’s fault.”

Paul’s voice was soft when he answered.

“Whatever you decide, it has to be your choice. Not because you’re scared of your dad. Not because of Julian. Not because of anyone else.”

I pressed my hand against my stomach.

“I feel so alone, Paul,” I said, my voice breaking. “I don’t have anyone. My dad doesn’t talk to me. Lora hates me. Victor is in prison. And Julian… I don’t even know how to face him.”

“You have me,” Paul said quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I wiped my eyes with my hand.

“I know,” I whispered. “And I’m grateful. But it’s not the same. I’m carrying a child and I don’t even know who the father is. How am I supposed to raise a baby like this?”

Paul was quiet for a few seconds.

“Have you thought about telling Julian?” he asked.

I let out a shaky breath.

“Every day,” I said. “But what do I even say? ‘Hey, remember that night we slept together? Well, I might be having your baby. Or it might be my ex’s, who’s in prison.’”

Paul didn’t laugh. He just sighed.

“You don’t have to figure everything out today,” he said. “But you can’t keep carrying this alone. It’s eating you alive.”

I looked down at my stomach again.

“I’m scared, Paul,” I said. “I’m scared of what this baby will mean for my life. I’m scared of what my dad will say. I’m scared of what Julian will say. And I’m scared that no matter what I do, I’ll mess this up.”

“You’re not alone in this,” Paul repeated. “Even if it feels like it right now.”

I stayed on the phone with him a little longer, talking about nothing and everything. When we finally hung up, the silence in the apartment felt heavier.

I lay down on the couch, curling up on my side, one hand on my stomach.

Two months.

And I still didn’t know what I was going to do.I was running out of time to pretend this wasn’t real.