Chapter 5 A Massage From The Past

Four months pregnant

Victoria stood in the tiny bathroom of her rented room, one hand on the curve just beginning to form beneath her shirt. It wasn't just in her mind anymore, her body was changing. Her face looked fuller in the mirror, and her belly had taken on a gentle roundness that made her pulse with both fear and awe.

She touched her skin gently, feeling the steady, quite movement of life inside her.

Four months.

She whispered it like a prayer.

Her routine had become steady. She worked six days a week at the restaurant, washing dishes, clearing tables, and helping were she could.

Pieter had warmed slightly, he no longer barked at her unless she made a mistake. Nomsa, the waitress, was still her only friend. The laughed in small, quite moments. It felt good.

Each Sunday, she went to the church to see sister Margaret. She still helped clean after services and sometimes stayed behide for tea. The old woman had become something of a guardian, though she never said so out loud.

"You're getting bigger," she said once, eyeing Victoria's stomach with her unusual stern gaze."

Victoria smiled."I know."

"You need to start thinking ahead. Where will you deliver? Who will help you when the baby comes?"

Victoria's smile faded. "I don't know yet."

"Well, think fast," sister Margaret said. "Babies don't wait for plans."

One Thursday afternoon, after a long shift, Victoria returned home and noticed a notification on her phone .

One New Massage - LYLA

She froze.

Lyla.

They had been classmates, never best friends, but friendly enough. Lyla was the only one who had helped her during that awkward, terrifying first week at school after the pregnancy rumors began to spread.

With trembling hands, she opened the massage.

Lyla:

Hey Vee

I don't know if you'IIl read this massage, but I just wanted to say I hope you're okey, I've been worried. Everyone at school has been talking, but I don't believe half the things I hear.

I miss you .

Are you safe?

Victoria stared at the screen for a long time. Her throat tightened. She hadn't spoken to anyone from home since she ran away. The connection felt like a hand reaching through the dark.

She hesitated, then typed.

Victoria:

Hey Lyla.

I'm okay. I'm safe. Please don't tell anyone that you spoke to me. I can't say where I am. It's better that way.

The reply came quickly.

Lyla:

I won't. I swear.

Are you alone?

Victoria sat down slowly, heart pounding.

Victoria:

Yes. But I have a job now. A place to stay. I'm four months pregnant.

There was a pause.

Lyla:

Wow...

I don't even know what to say. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

Charles doesn't even ask about you. He just moved on like nothing happened.

That last line stung. Victoria knew it already, deep down, but seeing it written out made it real.

Victoria:

I'm not surprised. He was never going to stay. It's better this way.

Lyla:

Your mom... I heard she's not doing well. Someone said she cries all the time. But your dad? He's just angry. Telling people you embarrassed the family.

Victoria blinked harder.

Victoria:

That sounds like him

Lyla:

Do you want me to pass a massage to your mom? I think it would mean everything to her just to know you okey.

Victoria bit her lip

Then typed slowly.

Victoria:

Just tell her I'm safe.

And I think about her everyday.

That's all.

That night, Victoria lay awake in her small room, staring at the ceiling. Her chest felt heavy, not with fear, but with memory. Her mom's warm hands. The way she used to hum while making tea. The gentle sound of her sleepers on the floor in the morning.

She missed her.

But she couldn't go back. Not now. Not ever, not to that house, not to that father, not to that life of silent pain and sacrifice.

Her child deserved better.

She closed her eyes and let the tears come quietly, alone in the dark.

The next morning, at the restaurant, Nomsa noticed something was off.

"You're quiet today," she said, handing Victoria a tray.

"I'm tired."

Nomsa nodded, not pushing. "You know you can talk to me , right? I know I joke a lot, but... you are not alone."

Victoria gave a small smile. "Thanks, Nomsa. I mean it."

A week passed. Then two.

Lyla didn't message again, and Victoria was grateful for that. The silence was proof of loyalty. She had reached across the passed to give Victoria peace, and then stepped back.

And that peace was exactly what Victoria needed to keep moving forward. Each week, she saved more money. Each week she felt her baby grow stronger. The fear was still there, lingering in quiet corners but so was something else.

A flicker of strength.

A beginning.