PREGNANT VIRGIN

CHAPTER 2: MIXED UP

“You’re below my class, Joan,” he repeated, like he had rehearsed it a thousand times.

The words burned through me. My hand moved before I even thought. I raised my hands and slapped him across his right cheek; before he could think straight, I landed another one on his left.

He staggered for a split second, then grabbed me by the neck.

“You have the guts to hit me? You’re looking for death.”

He shoved me backward. I stumbled, my back hitting the floor with a thud that stole the air from my lungs.

Mirabel, the girl he always called his cousin, stepped closer, a smirk on her face.

“All those weddings we planned together?” she said, circling me like a predator. “You were never meant to marry him. Remember? Me and Mark—that’s real. You? You’re just… you.” Just a dream that died.”

I pushed myself up, shaking with rage. “We’re getting married in June! That’s ours!”

She circled me slowly, her eyes sharp. “Yours? You paid his tuition, cleaned his apartment, cooked his meals, gave him everything you had—and for what? Now go raise another man for another girl to snatch. That’s your life, Joan.”

I swallowed, voice raw, trembling. “Mark… why? How could you do this to me?”

Mark stepped forward, voice sharp, slicing through the room.

“Don’t think you’ll ever rise to my level. I’ve got a deal, a position, power. She fits the life I want. You… you kept yourself for marriage? That’s laughable.”

My legs shook. My hands trembled. Every breath burned. I could barely stand. The betrayal hit deeper than anything I had ever imagined.

“Mark…” I whispered, voice breaking. “I regret knowing you.”

I turned and shut the door behind me, my hands trembling.

Every step I took felt heavy, like I was carrying the weight of a world that had just collapsed. .

By the time I got to my apartment, tears had soaked my cheeks, and I sank onto the couch, unable to move.

I threw my bag onto the bed, unzipped it, stared blankly at the floor. Sleep refused me.

Thoughts collided in a storm—why is love so cruel? I’d devoted everything to him.

Dropped out just to make sure he could finish school. Cooked, cleaned, supported every single dream of his.

And now… now he treats me like I’m nothing. A disgrace. Not good enough. Not enough for his new life.

I pressed my palms to my face, tried to stop the tears, but more streamed down. My throat ached. My eyes burned. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Hours passed, but my body refused rest.

I kept staring at the ceiling, tracing its familiar cracks, trying to find something stable in the chaos of betrayal.

Morning came. My eyes were bloodshot, my hair tangled, my body exhausted.

My phone rang. I glanced at the screen—Dr. Matthew, St. Augustine Fertility Clinic.

“Good morning, Miss Joan,” he said as soon as I answered, his tone professional but carrying urgency.

“Good morning, Dr. Matthew,” I replied, trying to steady my voice.

“Miss Joan, you’re urgently needed at the hospital. Can you come today, or would tomorrow be better?”

“Is everything alright, Doctor?” I asked, my stomach twisting.

“No issues. It’s regarding your fertility procedures from yesterday.”

“Okay… I’ll be there in an hour,” I said, my mind already racing.

“Perfect,” he replied, and the call ended.

I hung up and headed to the bathroom. Cold water ran over my face, washing away the lingering tears.

I needed to get myself together.

I made a decision.

I couldn’t stay here—not after everything. I packed a small bag with clothes and essentials, locking the door behind me. My heart was heavy as I headed straight to the hospital.

As soon as I stepped into the hospital, I noticed Dr. Matthew and Dr. Nike in the middle of a conversation. A girl was standing nearby, watching quietly. A nurse hurried over and whispered something to them. Almost instantly, both doctors turned to me.

“Welcome, Joan,” Dr. Matthew said, his eyes sharp, holding back something I couldn’t read.

He led me to his office without another word. My heart raced.

“You see, Joan,” he started, closing the door behind us, “yesterday… there was a mix-up. You didn’t take your second dose of medication.”

I blinked, confusion twisting my stomach. “But… Dr. Nike administered that to me,” I said, my voice trembling.

Dr. Matthew sighed, his expression turning heavy. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

“No… you were mistakenly inseminated. Joan Amy was supposed to take the insemination, but since you both have the same name, each of your preps was labeled ‘Joan A.’ The nurse mixed them up. By the time Joan Amy came in, it had already… happened.”

My head spun. Words escaped me. I shook, my lips trembling. “So… doctor… you mean…” I stuttered, unable to form the sentence.

“As it stands now, Miss Joan, there’s a high chance you might be pregnant,” Dr. Matthew said quietly.

“Considering your ovaries have been under stimulation, it’s very possible.”

My bag fell from my hands. My knees felt weak. Pregnant. The word echoed like a drum inside my skull.

“Dr… I’m… a virgin! How is that possible?” I shouted, tears burning my eyes.

“We’ll run a test to confirm first,” Dr. Matthew said, calm but firm. “Please, don’t panic.”

“Run the test… now!” I cried, panic clawing my throat.

“Joan…” Dr. Nike stepped forward, his voice soft, trying to calm me. “This is all my fault. Please… calm down. I promise we can handle this.”

I laughed, a bitter, trembling sound, tears streaking my face. “Handle this? You call this handling?!” I spun to face him. “No wonder you were asking me yesterday why I chose to go through this process. What kind of… what kind of unprofessionalism is this?”

My head throbbed. My anger mixed with disbelief. “And if I am pregnant…?”

“That… will be between you and the father of the child,” Dr. Matthew said, as if stating a fact.

“The… father?” My voice cracked, shaking with fury. “You… you’ve ruined my life! If this is true… I will have an abortion!”

A cold, commanding and intimidating voice cut through my rage, very firm that the room became silent.

“And who said you can have an abortion?”