Chapter 3 Our child

(Amara)

“Girl, a sick leave?” Maya’s voice rings through the phone.

I’d called the office earlier to request one because right now, I can’t even face myself—let alone clients. “Don’t tell me you’re still floating on the moon from your time with Felix last night that you decided to cover it up with a sick leave?”

I stay quiet.

For a moment, I wish that were true. I wish that were the reason.

But it isn’t.

“Amara?” Maya calls. “Are you there?”

“Ah… yeah. Yes.” My voice comes out weak. “I’m just tired.”

“Are you sure?” Worry seeps into her tone.

Normally, I would’ve told her everything. Maya has always been the one I run to. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine being in a situation like this, where I have to hide the bad with the good and mask the good with lies.

And knowing Maya, if I said the word, she’d be at my door within minutes.

But now isn’t the time.

I need to keep this to myself. At least until Selina gives birth.

Her words echo in my head again: You’ll never see me again.

That promise is the only thing holding me together.

“Okay,” Maya says slowly. “You know what? I’m coming over right now.”

“No.” The word rushes out. “No, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. I just need a few days of rest. I’ll be strong enough to come back after that.”

“But, Amara—”

“I need to go,” I cut in quickly. “We’ll talk later.”

I end the call before she can respond.

A sigh slips out of me.

Footsteps approach.

Selina.

She looks heavy, exhausted, weighed down by the life growing inside her. I imagine how hard it must be carrying such a stomach on such a small frame.

She stops beside the kitchen counter where I’m standing. “What’s for breakfast, Amara?”

I blink.

Is she really asking me that?

Shouldn’t she be asking the man who got her pregnant?

As if sensing my hesitation, she rubs her stomach gently, smiling down at it like she’s communicating with the baby. “She’s almost here,” she says softly. “She eats a lot… craves a lot of things. If only I could afford them, I would’ve given her everything.”

Her voice drops at the end.

Something twists inside me. I don’t fully understand it, because I’ve never felt that before, but the weight of it presses on my chest.

“You don’t have to worry about that now,” I hear myself say. “As long as you’re here, you can tell me whatever you crave. I’ll make it available.”

Her face lights up. “Really?”

She looks at me like no one has ever done something like that for her before. “I didn’t make a mistake choosing you to be her mother. I can already tell she’s loved, even before she’s born.”

I say nothing.

I just smile and let the moment pass.

*******

I place the scrambled eggs, toast, and juice on the table, the exact things she said she wanted. I turn to leave when her voice stops me.

“Will I be eating alone?” 

I turn slowly, choosing my words carefully. Or at least, I try to.

“Why not stick to what you’re here for,” I say quietly, “and not try to belong?”

The words come out sharper than I intend, and even I flinch at them.

Suddenly, Selina yelps, juice spilling across her dress. She freezes for a moment, eyes wide, then whispers, “Oh… I wasn’t careful. But it’s fine… the baby…”

Confusion tightens my chest. Did I do something? Or is she—

She glances at me, voice barely steady. “You didn’t mean that, right? I just—“

“I didn’t do that.” I say, cutting her off as confusion hits me.

But before she can say anything else, Felix’s presence fills the room.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Selina forces a small smile, hands folding neatly in front of her. “Nothing, Felix. I was just talking to Amara… about coming with us to see the doctor. She should see the baby too, you know… she’s going to be her mother anyway.”

My chest tightens.

Selina gives a small twitch of a smile, like she’s doing me a favor by letting me stay… or maybe making sure Felix doesn’t see the spill the “wrong way.”

Her posture is calm, composed, but every tiny flicker of her eyes says she’s already turned this moment to her advantage.

Felix looks at me briefly, like he’s trying to keep the peace. Then looks down at Selina’s dress.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he says, moving toward her. “That’s not good for the baby.”

He takes her arm gently. “Come on. Let me take you to your room. I don’t want anything to hurt our child.”

Our.

The word sits heavy in my chest, wrong. 

As he leads her away, she looks back at the table. “But the food—”

“Don’t worry,” Felix says firmly. “Amara will make you another and bring it to your room. First, you need to change.”

He doesn’t look back.

Not even once.

All that matters now is her.

And the baby.