Chapter Five: Two Pink Lines
907 Words
Charlotte woke up screaming.
Her entire body was drenched in sweat as she sat upright on the unfamiliar bed inside Zara’s guest room, her chest rising rapidly.
Again.
The same nightmare.
Ethan pinning Vanessa against the bed. Her mother calling her selfish. Her father choosing business over his own daughter.
And Damien…
God.
Even in her dreams, she could still feel his hands on her skin.
Charlotte covered her face shakily.
One week.
It had only been one week since her entire life collapsed, yet it felt like years.
Everything had changed.
She was no longer someone’s beloved daughter. No longer a loyal girlfriend planning a future.
Now she was just… lost.
Broken.
Running.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts before Zara stepped into the room carrying coffee.
“You barely slept again,” Zara said quietly.
Charlotte forced a weak smile.
“I’m trying.”
But she wasn’t.
Every day brought new chaos.
Her parents called endlessly from different numbers after she blocked them. Ethan kept showing up uninvited at Zara’s mansion, begging one minute and threatening the next.
Charlotte no longer knew which version of him scared her more.
The desperate Ethan… or the angry one.
“You need to eat,” Zara said gently.
Charlotte nodded weakly even though nausea twisted painfully inside her stomach again.
Zara frowned immediately. “That’s the third morning this week.”
“I’m stressed.”
Still…
Something about it felt strange.
Before Zara could respond, loud banging suddenly echoed downstairs.
Both women froze instantly.
Another bang.
Then shouting.
“Open the damn gate!”
Ethan.
Charlotte’s blood ran cold.
Zara cursed under her breath before rushing toward the balcony window.
“Oh my God.”
Charlotte hurried after her and looked down.
Three black SUVs were parked outside the mansion gates.
Ethan stood beside them arguing aggressively with security while two older men in suits remained near the cars.
Charlotte recognized one immediately.
Ethan’s father.
Fear crawled violently down her spine.
“What are they doing here?” she whispered.
Zara’s expression darkened. “This doesn’t look good.”
Down below, Ethan suddenly looked upward toward the house.
Directly toward Charlotte’s window.
Their eyes met.
And Charlotte immediately stepped back.
A few seconds later, her phone started ringing.
Ethan.
Again.
Her hands trembled as she answered reluctantly.
“What do you want?”
“Come downstairs,” Ethan said coldly.
“No.”
“Charlotte, stop making things difficult.”
Her stomach twisted.
“You cheated on me with my sister.”
“And we can still fix this.”
Charlotte laughed bitterly. “You’re insane.”
His voice hardened dangerously. “Do you really think your family will survive losing our business connections?”
“There it is,” Charlotte whispered painfully. “The truth.”
A long silence followed.
Then Ethan spoke again, softer this time.
“You belong with me.”
Fear prickled across Charlotte’s skin.
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t.”
She ended the call immediately.
Moments later, angry shouting erupted downstairs again.
Zara grabbed Charlotte’s wrist quickly.
“You can’t stay here anymore.”
Charlotte blinked. “What?”
“They know where you are now.” Zara looked genuinely worried. “And honestly? Ethan’s obsession is getting scary.”
Charlotte felt sick because deep down…
She agreed.
Ethan wasn’t trying to win her back anymore.
He was trying to control her.
—
That same evening, Zara packed a small suitcase into the trunk of her car.
“My grandparents live in a quiet town four hours from here,” she explained while driving through the dark highway. “Nobody will think to look for you there.”
Charlotte stared silently out the window.
Everything felt unreal.
Just weeks ago, her biggest concern had been planning Ethan’s birthday surprise.
Now she was hiding like a criminal.
“You okay?” Zara asked softly.
Charlotte swallowed hard.
“I don’t think my life will ever be normal again.”
Zara reached across the console briefly, squeezing her hand.
“Maybe normal is overrated.”
Charlotte almost smiled.
Almost.
—
Zara’s grandparents welcomed Charlotte warmly without questions.
Their small countryside home felt peaceful in a way Charlotte hadn’t experienced in years.
No screaming. No pressure. No betrayal.
Just silence.
For the first time in days, Charlotte finally slept peacefully.
But the nausea remained.
Morning. Afternoon. Night.
And every day, it worsened.
One evening, Charlotte stood inside the tiny bathroom staring at her reflection.
She looked exhausted.
Pale.
Her hand slowly drifted toward her stomach.
No.
It couldn’t be.
Her breathing quickened instantly.
The reckless night with Damien flashed through her mind.
His lips. His touch. The tangled sheets.
Charlotte’s heart slammed painfully against her ribs.
No.
No no no.
With trembling hands, she grabbed her phone and rushed out toward the nearest pharmacy before fear could stop her.
—
Thirty minutes later…
Charlotte sat alone on the bathroom floor clutching a pregnancy test in shaking fingers.
The silence around her felt deafening.
Her pulse roared loudly in her ears.
Please no.
Please…
Slowly, her eyes lifted toward the small plastic stick resting on the sink.
Then her entire body froze.
Two pink lines.
Charlotte stopped breathing.
The test slipped from her fingers onto the floor as tears instantly filled her eyes.
“Oh my God…” she whispered brokenly.
Pregnant.
She was pregnant.
And suddenly…
Damien Ashford’s face became impossible to forget.
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