Chapter 5 Emma's realization

Emma sat by her window, staring out at the gray, oppressive sky. She felt trapped, not just by the walls of the house her stepmother, Mrs. Tamela, kept her confined to, but by the storm brewing inside her. She had missed her period, and strange, unsettling symptoms were beginning to emerge. Irresistible waves of nausea hit her at all hours, her appetite had vanished, and she often found herself rushing to the bathroom to vomit.

This particular morning, Emma was hunched over the toilet, her body wracked with another bout of nausea. She barely heard the creak of the door before Mrs. Tamela's sharp voice cut through the air.

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Tamela demanded, her eyes narrowing as she took in Emma's pale face and trembling form.

Emma wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to steady herself. "I'm just not feeling well," she mumbled, avoiding her stepmother's piercing gaze.

Mrs. Tamela's suspicion grew. "This has been going on for days now. You're not just sick. There's something more." Her tone was icy, leaving no room for denial.

A few minutes later, Emma found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the pregnancy test in her hands. The silence in the room was deafening as they waited for the result. Mrs. Tamela stood over her, arms crossed, her eyes never leaving Emma.

When the strip showed positive, the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Emma's heart sank, while Mrs. Tamela's face twisted in fury.

"You're pregnant," Mrs. Tamela hissed, her voice low and menacing. "Who is responsible for this?"

Emma shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I... I don't know," she stammered. She genuinely wasn't sure. The night with Ethan had been a haze, a moment of reckless abandon she hadn't thought much of until now.

Mrs. Tamela's eyes blazed with anger. "You don't know?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You're lying to me, Emma. You're going to tell me who did this, or I will make your life a living hell."

True to her word, Mrs. Tamela intensified her cruelty. She starved Emma, locking her in her room with nothing but water for four days. Each day dragged on, the hunger gnawing at Emma's insides, her desperation growing with each passing hour.

On the fourth day, weakened and exhausted, Emma finally broke. "It might be Ethan," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We had a one-night stand a while ago. It could be him."

Mrs. Tamela's expression shifted from anger to a cold, calculating look. "Ethan," she repeated, almost to herself. "The same Ethan who thinks he's above everyone else? We'll see about that."

The following day, Emma found herself standing outside Ethan's company, her stepmother gripping her arm tightly. The grand building loomed over them, its sleek, modern design a stark contrast to the turmoil inside Emma.

Mrs. Tamela marched her to the front desk, demanding to see Ethan. The receptionist, taken aback by her aggressive demeanor, quickly made a call. Moments later, they were escorted to Ethan's office.

Ethan looked up from his desk as they entered, his expression darkening when he saw Emma and Mrs. Tamela. "What's this about?" he asked, his voice cold.

Mrs. Tamela shoved Emma forward. "Tell him," she ordered.

Emma hesitated, her eyes pleading with Ethan for some semblance of understanding. "Ethan, I... I think I'm pregnant. And it might be yours."

Ethan's reaction was immediate and harsh. He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, his eyes flashing with anger. "We had one night, Emma. One night. You can't seriously think that-"

Mrs. Tamela cut him off. "She's telling the truth. She hasn't been with anyone else. You need to take responsibility."

Ethan's laugh was bitter. "Responsibility? For what? A one-night mistake? No, I don't think so. This isn't my problem."

Emma felt her heart shatter. She had hoped, despite everything, that Ethan might show some compassion, some recognition of their shared past. But his cold dismissal left her feeling more alone than ever.

"Please, Ethan," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I'm scared. I don't know what to do."

Ethan's face hardened. "That's not my concern. I'm not getting involved in this mess."

Mrs. Tamela's grip tightened on Emma's arm. "You'll regret this," she spat at Ethan. "Mark my words."

As they left the office, Emma felt a deep sense of despair settle over her. The situation had gone from bad to worse, and now she was truly alone, with no one to turn to.