Chapter 4 Not alone.

Anora's POV

A week later, I finally gathered the courage to do what I had been dreading-I went to my parents' house.

They welcomed me with warm smiles and tight hugs, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me. My mom held me just a little longer than usual, her eyes scanning my face with the sharp intuition only mothers possess.

"You look... pale. Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked with a soft frown.

I forced a smile. "Just a little tired, Mom. Nothing serious."

Lunch passed in a blur. I barely tasted the food, my mind too wrapped in anxiety. After we cleared the table, we settled in the living room, the familiar comfort of the space doing little to calm my racing heart. I kept glancing at my parents, wondering how to begin, what words to use.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Mom beat me to it.

"How's Ethan doing?"

The question hit me like a slap. My fingers clenched on my lap, and I looked down, trying to mask the wave of emotion that threatened to spill again.

I smiled tightly, bitterly. "We broke up."

There was a beat of silence. Then both my parents turned to me, surprise etched on their faces.

"What happened?" Mom asked, her voice soft but laced with concern.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and replied, "He cheated."

Gasps followed. My dad sat forward slightly, frowning. "He did what?"

My mother's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Anora... I'm so sorry, baby."

"I caught him... with Debbie," I added, barely above a whisper.

More silence. Heavier this time.

"Debbie?" My mom's voice trembled in disbelief. "Your best friend, Debbie?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. That Debbie."

The air in the room grew thick. My mom looked like she didn't know whether to cry or scream, and my dad was already pacing the floor, muttering under his breath.

"I should've known something was off about that girl," Mom said, shaking her head. "Always too friendly, always too perfect."

"I trusted them both," I murmured. "And they broke me."

Mom came over and wrapped her arms around me, her embrace warm and steady.

"You don't deserve this," she whispered. "You deserve someone who would never make you cry."

I clung to her for a moment, breathing in her scent like I used to as a child. But I knew the hardest part was still ahead.

"I need to tell you something else," I said softly.

Both of them looked at me.

I inhaled deeply, willing myself not to cry. "I'm... pregnant."

The words fell heavy into the silence.

My dad was the first to speak.

"How?" His voice was calm, but the confusion underneath it crackled like static. "How are you pregnant?"

The knot in my throat tightened. I tried to hold back the tears, but they were already threatening to fall. My fingers dug into the hem of my blouse.

"I'm pregnant," I repeated, softer this time-like maybe if I said it gently enough, it wouldn't hurt as much. I looked up to study their expressions, hoping for a trace of understanding.

Mom's hand slipped off my shoulder.

She stepped back like I had physically struck her, her face frozen in a mix of shock and disappointment. I saw it clearly-how her mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first.

"Is it... is it Ethan's?" she finally managed to ask, her voice almost brittle.

I shook my head.

"No," I whispered, then forced the rest of the truth out before I lost my nerve. "The day I caught Ethan and Debbie together... I lost it. I went to a bar just to breathe, to clear my head. But I ended up drinking too much... and I... I got drunk."

Mom's breath caught.

She turned away from me, her back rigid as she walked a few steps toward the window. The silence between the three of us grew heavy, suffocating. The ticking of the clock on the wall felt like a countdown to an explosion.

"You mean a random guy got you pregnant?" she asked sharply, not turning around.

Her voice cut into me, clean and cold.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered, the words falling out over and over like a broken prayer. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't think-I was just-hurting."

The sob broke free this time. I buried my face in my hands, unable to stop the tears. I could feel my father's eyes on me, could feel the weight of his disappointment even in his silence.

"I never raised you like this," Mom said finally, her voice low but trembling with emotion. "One mistake... and now your whole life has changed."

"I know," I cried. "But I couldn't- I couldn't go through with an abortion. I didn't even think twice. I just... I want to raise the baby. Even if it's alone."

I finally looked up at them, my face blotchy, my chest heaving. "I'm not asking you to be okay with it. I'm just asking... please don't hate me."

For a moment, no one said anything.

Then Dad came forward. He didn't speak, just reached out and pulled me gently into a hug. I froze.

"It's going to be hard," he said into my hair. "But we'll figure this out. One way or another."

I nodded against his chest, sobbing harder.

Behind him, I saw Mom turn slightly. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes shining with restrained tears.

"We're not happy," she said. "But you're our daughter. And you're not alone."

"You're going to move in with us," my dad said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You're pregnant, Anora. You can't live alone."

"We'll go together to your place to get your things, okay?" my mom added, her tone softer now-gentle, even.

I didn't say a word. I just sat there, listening, overwhelmed by everything. A quiet warmth bloomed in my chest. They weren't yelling. They weren't casting me out or making me feel like a failure. They were here. They understood.

And they were ready to stand by me.

That meant everything.

"We love you," my mom said at last, her eyes brimming with emotion. "No matter what. You're still our baby girl."

Tears filled my eyes again, but this time, they came from relief. I nodded, too choked up to speak, and leaned into her open arms.

I wasn't alone.