Chapter 29 Twenty Nine
Weeks Later.
The change hadn’t been sudden.
It had crept in quietly, the way truths often did—small, almost invisible shifts that only became obvious in hindsight.
Sarah noticed first.
She leaned against Antonia’s desk one Tuesday afternoon, arms folded, eyes sharp with curiosity. “Okay,” she said lightly, “I have to ask.”
Antonia looked up from her screen. “Ask what?”
“You,” Sarah said. “You don’t go to the boss’s office anymore.”
Antonia’s fingers paused on the keyboard.
“That’s not true,” she replied calmly. “I was there last week.”
“For five minutes,” Sarah countered. “Before, you practically lived there. Files, reports, updates—you were always his go-to. But now he calls in any other person but you.”
Antonia forced a small smile. “Things change.”
Sarah hummed, unconvinced. “Did something happen?”
“No,” Antonia said quickly. Too quickly. “I have always told you, I only go when I am summoned.”
Sarah studied her, clearly not satisfied, but before she could press further, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over Antonia.
The room tilted.
Her stomach rolled violently.
She pressed a hand to her desk, her breath hitching. “I—I need a minute.”
“Hey,” Sarah said, alarm replacing curiosity. “Are you okay?”
Antonia shook her head, swallowing hard as nausea surged. “I don’t think so.”
Her face must have gone pale, because Sarah was already calling for help. Within minutes, Antonia was being guided into a chair, water pressed into her trembling hands.
"You don't look good at all," Sarah said, "I'll go speak to HR. You should go home,” Sarah added gently. “This isn’t just stress.”
Antonia nodded weakly. She didn’t argue.
She didn’t trust herself to.
Later, she is sent home to get some rest.
\---
Helen was in the kitchen when Antonia walked into the apartment, hours earlier than usual.
She looked up, surprised. “You’re home early, hope no problem.”
Antonia barely had time to answer.
“I don’t feel too well and I was—” she started.
The wave hit her again.
Harder.
She clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed past Helen, barely making it to the bathroom before retching violently into the toilet.
Her body shook with it, the force of it leaving her weak and breathless.
When it finally passed, she leaned back against the cool tiles, wiping her mouth with trembling hands.
She stepped out slowly.
Helen was waiting.
Her gaze wasn’t alarmed now—it was sharp. Calculating.
“How long have you been feeling like this?” Helen asked.
“Just today,” Antonia lied softly. But truthfully, it has been days. Crippling fatigue, headaches, and body cramps.
Helen crossed her arms. “When was your last period?”
The question landed like a gunshot.
Antonia froze.
The answer surfaced slowly, reluctantly.
Late.
She was late.
Her period was due weeks ago.
Her heart began to pound.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “That’s not possible.”
Helen’s voice softened. “Tonia. Talk to me.”
“I took the pill,” Antonia said quickly. “Later, but I took it.”
Helen frowned. “How much later?”
Antonia didn’t answer.
Because now she knew.
She had taken it too late.
The room felt too small. The air too thick.
Helen moved closer, resting a hand on her arm. “ Calm down. Let’s not panic. Stress can cause delays too.”
Antonia nodded desperately. “Yes. Exactly. It’s probably nothing. It's just stress.”
Still, Helen didn’t let go of her arm. “We should get a test done.”
The word echoed in Antonia’s head.
Test.
They bought it that evening.
Antonia’s hands shook so badly she nearly dropped the strip in the bathroom. She stared at it while waiting, heart racing, prayers tumbling silently from her lips.
Please.
Please let this be a mistake.
When the result appeared, clear and unmistakable, her knees nearly gave out.
Positive.
Her worst nightmare stared back at her.
She was pregnant.
She sank onto the edge of the tub, a sob tearing from her chest.
“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no…”
Helen knelt in front of her, reading the result once, then again. She didn’t speak immediately. She simply wrapped her arms around her sister.
“You’re pregnant,” she said softly.
Antonia broke.
She cried into Helen’s shoulder, fear and shame and heartbreak spilling out all at once. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were red, her voice barely steady.
"How steady has your relationship gotten with him?" Helen asked her.
Antonia scoffs.
Relationship?
She shook her head at her sister, "There's nothing like that."
"What? So it was a friends with benefits sort of arrangement?"
"We slept together once. It all happened so fast."
"The man responsible, who is he?" Helen asked sternly.
“He doesn’t want me,” Antonia replied.
Helen stiffened. “What?”
“The man I was seeing,” Antonia whispered. “He called what we had a mistake.”
Helen’s jaw tightened. “Then he needs to know. Tell me who he is.”
Antonia shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
Helen waited.
Antonia swallowed, then said the words that had been choking her since morning.
“He’s my boss.”
Silence fell.
Helen's eyes grew wide in shock. "Kennedy Walton?"
“Kennedy Walton,” Antonia confirmed, tears sliding down her cheeks. “The baby is his.”
Helen stared at her. "How come you were having an affair with your boss?"
Antonia sighed deeply, and in minutes she told her sister everything about her arrangement with her boss.
The Charade. The lies. The act.
“And he wants nothing to do with you?” Helen asked quietly after listening to her sister.
Antonia nodded.
For a long moment, Helen said nothing.
Then she stood.
Her expression hardened—not at Antonia, but at the world.
“We’ll handle this,” she said firmly. “Whatever decision you make, you've got me. You are not doing it alone.”
"Thank you, Helen." She whispered.
"But, I still think you should tell him. He might react differently from what you expect."
Antonia pressed a hand to her stomach, fear and disbelief twisting inside her.
Because no matter what Kennedy wanted—
This baby was real.
And everything was about to change.
Could she really tell him she was having his baby?