C13 Taylor Discovers She Is Pregnant

The morning began with an unease Taylor couldn’t name. Her body felt different—heavier, slower, her stomach twisting in ways she couldn’t dismiss as nerves. She had brushed it off for weeks: stress, late nights, too much coffee. But this morning, as she stood at the bathroom sink staring at her pale reflection, something inside her whispered what she had been too afraid to consider.

She was late.

Not by a day. By weeks.

Her breath caught, and the toothbrush slipped from her hand into the basin. The sound echoed in the small bathroom, startling her, as if the universe wanted to mark the moment.

“No,” she murmured. “Not this. Not now.”

But her mind was already racing. The nights with Scott, the moments she had convinced herself were controlled, purposeful, justifiable because she had only wanted one thing. A child. Her body had been whispering the truth for days, but now it screamed.

Taylor pressed a trembling hand against her abdomen. It felt unreal—like her body had betrayed her even as it gave her what she had once longed for.

She moved quickly, her heart thudding, grabbing her keys and slipping out of the house before Owen could ask questions. He was still asleep in the bedroom, the steady rise and fall of his chest a painful contrast to the storm inside her.

At the pharmacy downtown, she kept her sunglasses on, head lowered, as if hiding her face could erase her shame. She bought the test, her hands shaking as she slid the small box into her purse.

Back home, she locked herself in the bathroom. Minutes stretched like hours as she followed the instructions with numb precision. She couldn’t bring herself to sit. Instead, she paced the floor, glancing at the small stick on the counter every few seconds, willing it to change, to give her a different answer.

But when the line appeared, clear and undeniable, her knees buckled. She sank to the cold tile, pressing her face into her hands.

Pregnant.

Her wish. Her nightmare.

Tears blurred her vision. She had wanted this for so long. She had begged the universe for it, prayed for it during countless sleepless nights when Owen’s silence filled the room like a wall. And now, when she finally had it, the joy was drowned by fear.

Whose child was it?

She thought of Scott—his intensity, his refusal to let her go, the way he looked at her like she was oxygen. She thought of Owen—his steady love, his trust, the man who believed she was his and his alone. The weight of the truth pressed on her chest until she could barely breathe.

She needed air.

Slipping out of the bathroom, she moved to the balcony, clutching the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white. The city stretched before her, alive and indifferent, its noise a cruel reminder that life went on, even when hers felt like it was unraveling.

Behind her, she heard Owen stirring. His voice floated down the hall, warm and unguarded. “Taylor? You up already?”

She froze. Panic surged. She couldn’t tell him—not yet. She couldn’t even tell herself what this meant.

“I’m just getting some air,” she called back, forcing her tone steady.

Owen appeared a moment later, his hair tousled, eyes still soft from sleep. He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her gently against him. “You’ve been restless lately. Everything okay?”

Taylor leaned into his touch, tears threatening to spill. “Just tired,” she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head, trusting her words without question. The guilt cut deeper than any blade.

Later that day, she found herself at Simone’s apartment. She hadn’t planned to go, but her feet carried her there as if searching for an anchor. Simone opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight of Taylor’s pale face.

“What’s wrong?” Simone asked immediately, pulling her inside.

Taylor sank onto the couch, her hands trembling. “I can’t say it out loud. If I do, it becomes real.”

Simone sat beside her, waiting.

Finally, Taylor whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric.

Simone’s mouth parted in surprise, then slowly curved into a smile. “Taylor… that’s amazing. You’ve wanted this for so long.”

Tears welled in Taylor’s eyes. “It’s not amazing. It’s terrifying. I don’t know whose baby it is.”

The smile vanished from Simone’s face. She reached for Taylor’s hands, gripping them firmly. “Oh, Taylor.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Taylor choked out. “If it’s Owen’s… it changes everything. If it’s Scott’s…” Her voice broke. “It will destroy me.”

Simone’s eyes softened, but her voice carried a hard edge. “You need to be careful. Scott is already too close, too intense. If he finds out, he’ll never let you go.”

Taylor shivered. “He won’t find out. I can’t let him. This is mine to carry, mine to figure out.”

But as she spoke, she knew secrets had a way of bleeding into the open.

That evening, she returned home to find Owen in the living room, papers spread across the coffee table. He looked up, smiling when he saw her. “You’ve been gone all day. Everything okay?”

Taylor swallowed hard, her throat dry. “Just needed to clear my head.”

He studied her for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes. Then he nodded, trusting her once again.

When she retreated to the bedroom, she pressed a hand against her stomach, the truth pressing back against her palm. She whispered into the silence, “Please, let this be Owen’s.”

But deep down, she knew the universe wasn’t done testing her.

That night, she dreamed of cradles—empty, swaying in the dark, whispers filling the air like secrets she couldn’t silence. She woke drenched in sweat, her hand still on her abdomen, as if trying to protect the fragile life inside.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it with trembling fingers.

A message from Scott.

> I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.

Taylor’s heart lurched. She stared at the glowing screen, her breath shallow.

And then, as if fate itself was conspiring against her, another message appeared.

> I know something’s changed. Tell me.

Her blood ran cold.

How could he know?

She shut off the screen, shoving the phone face down. But even in the dark, she felt his presence creeping closer, as though he was watching her from the shadows.

Taylor curled into herself, a silent plea forming on her lips. She had wanted a child. She had prayed for it.

Now, she wasn’t sure if her wish was the blessing she once thought it was—

or the beginning of her undoing.