Chapter 2 Broken but not defeated

Zara pov

"I'm pregnant, Michael," I repeated, this time in a calmer voice, wiping my tears away with the back of my palm. My heart was racing, but I steadied myself, hoping-praying-that these words would change everything.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the folded paper, my fingers trembling slightly. Climbing the stairs to meet him, I held it out. "Here, you can see for yourself," I said, forcing a small smile. This had to mean something to him. It had to.

Michael stood frozen, his expression unreadable as he snatched the paper from my hands. His fingers hastily unfolded it, eyes scanning the words. I held my breath, waiting for a shift in his demeanor, some flicker of regret or concern.

Instead, laughter.

A deep, mocking laugh that echoed through the house.

I stiffened, confusion washing over me like a cold wave. "Really, Zara? Is this what you want to do?" he scoffed, shaking his head.

I swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

He took a step closer, his lips curling into something cruel. "Are you trying to force a child on me?"

His words sent a sharp pain through my chest. My brows furrowed in disbelief. "Michael, the child is yours," I said firmly.

His face twisted in disgust. "I can't father that thing you're carrying. It can't be mine," he spat, his voice dripping with rejection. Then, as if my entire existence meant nothing, he flicked the paper at me, letting it fall to the ground.

"Go pack your things and leave my house," he added before turning on his heel and walking away without a second glance.

I stood there, numb, my body unwilling to move. My fingers curled around my stomach protectively as silent tears slid down my cheeks. How had it come to this? How had my life turned into such a mess?

I sank onto the stairs, my mind drowning in thoughts I couldn't untangle.

A light tap on my shoulder startled me. "Ma'am," the house help called softly.

I blinked, snapping back to reality.

"Your bag," she said, gesturing to the neatly packed suitcase beside her. My suitcase.

A weak smile formed on my lips. So, it was final.

"Mr. Michael asked me to see you out of the house," she added hesitantly.

I looked toward the hallway, my heart aching for one last moment with him. "Can I see him one last time?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head. "That would not be necessary."

And just like that, the last piece of hope I had crumbled.

As I picked up my bag, its weight felt insignificant compared to the heaviness in my chest. My legs dragged beneath me, each step sluggish, as I walked out of the house I had once called home. The house help followed silently behind me, her presence barely registering in my mind.

The door clicked shut behind me-a finality I wasn't ready for. I stood at the entrance, staring at the walls that had witnessed my laughter, my tears, my dreams. The home that had sheltered me, the place where beautiful memories had been made... now just a building, stripped of warmth, stripped of belonging.

A sharp pain twisted inside me, and before I knew it, my knees buckled. I slumped onto the cold ground, my fingers trembling as they touched the rough pavement. This wasn't just a house. It was a piece of me. And now, I was walking away from it forever. After what felt like an eternity, I finally forced myself to stand. My legs trembled beneath me, but I straightened my shoulders, determined to face the world outside-a world that once terrified me.

I lowered my gaze to my stomach, my fingers gently brushing over the small swell. "Thank you for coming," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. This tiny life growing inside me was my only anchor now, the only reason I had to keep moving forward.

With shaky hands, I unzipped my bag, rummaging through it until my fingers brushed against the bundle of cash I had carefully saved. Micheal's birthday money. It was still there. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. I had cried enough. There were no more tears left to shed.

I turned one last time, my eyes lingering on the house-the place that had given me love, pain, and everything in between. A home that was no longer mine.

"Be happy, Micheal," I murmured, even as the words splintered something inside me.

Then, gathering every ounce of strength I had left, I picked myself up and walked away-broken, but not defeated.