The Consequences
1980 Words
Adeline’s POV
It’s been one month since the worst night of my life… and the biggest mistake I ever made.
I woke up at 4:30 a.m. in the tiny motel room I’d been living in for the past one month.
The place wasn’t much…a narrow bed, a leaking faucet, and walls so thin I could hear my neighbors arguing every night, but it was all I could afford.
Every paycheck from the diner went toward keeping a roof over my head. It wasn’t a home. It was a place to sleep.
And right now, it was the only thing standing between me and the streets.
My alarm wouldn’t go off for another thirty minutes, but my stomach had other plans.
I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up again. This was the seventh morning in a row.
I knelt on the dirty tile floor, dry heaving into the toilet, and tried to tell myself it was food poisoning or probably stress.
But my period was four weeks late and my breasts were hurting so badly I couldn’t wear a bra.
I was exhausted all the time despite sleeping ten hours a night and I was throwing up every single morning.
I wiped my mouth with a shaky hand and stared at my reflection in the cracked mirror. “No,” I whispered. “Please, God, no.” But I already knew, I’d just been too terrified to admit it.
I called in sick to work for the third time this week. My manager was going to fire me soon because I could hear it in his voice when he said fine.
I threw on clothes that were starting to feel tight around my stomach and walked three blocks to the pharmacy. It was six AM. The store had just opened and I was the only customer there.
The pregnancy tests were behind the counter so I had to ask the pharmacist for them. She looked at me with pity as she scanned them like she knew exactly what my situation was.
“Good luck, honey,” she said as she handed me the bag. I didn’t respond. I just paid and left.
Back in my motel room, I locked myself in the bathroom and opened the first test with a shaking hand. I read the instructions five times because I couldn’t focus.
Then I peed on the stick and set it on the sink. “Wait for three minutes,” the instructions said.
I counted every second. One hundred and eighty seconds felt like hours.
When I finally looked at the test, two pink lines stared back at me.
Positive.
“No.” My voice cracked. “No, no, no. That’s wrong. It has to be wrong.”
I ripped open the second test and peed on it with shaking hands then I waited another three minutes that felt like eternity.
It was the same two pink lines. Positive.
“Please,” I whispered to no one. “Please let this be a mistake. Please.”
I picked the two tests and put them at the edge of the sink. I was pregnant with a stranger’s baby, a stranger whose name I didn’t know, whose face I could barely remember.
I slid down the bathroom walls, staring at those three tests. Just one night’s mistake and now my entire life is over. I don’t have much in my account and I worked at a diner that was about to fire me.
I had no family, no friends and support. It was just me and a baby I couldn’t afford and never planned for, a baby whose father I could never find even if I wanted to.
I started laughing but it came out broken and hysterical then the laughter turned to sobs that tore from my chest.
I sat on that dirty bathroom floor and cried until I thought I’d break apart.
When I finally stopped, my throat was raw and my eyes were swollen. I looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror.
“What am I going to do?” I whispered.
My reflection stared back with no answers. Just a terrified girl who’d made too many mistakes.
I had to make a decision before it was too late so I grabbed my phone and searched for the bar. The Kings Bar and Hotel. I had to find him.
I took the subway to where the bar was located. “How can I help you?” The bartender asked me.
“I need to find someone. A man who was here a month ago. He is tall, has dark hair and grey eyes.”
“I’m sorry but we can’t give out guest information.”
“Please. It’s important.”
“What’s going on?” A bartender appeared, the same one from that night. “You were here a month ago.”
“Yes! Do you remember the man I left with?”
Pity crossed his face. “That was his first time here. He paid cash, no name. I’ve never seen him before or since.”
My stomach dropped.”He has to come back…”
“Leave your number. If he shows up, I’ll call you.”
“I wrote my number on a receipt with shaky hands. “Please. Tell him I need to talk to him. It’s urgent.”
I left the hotel with tears streaming down my face. He was gone and I was alone with a baby I couldn’t afford.
Life didn’t wait for me to recover. It kept moving and so did I. One shift at a time, one exhausted morning after another.
There were nights I cried myself to sleep in that same motel room, telling myself I would figure it out. And mornings where I still had to get up anyway. And somehow…I made it.
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
I was nine months pregnant, working double shift when my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Adeline Monroe? This is the bartender.” The voice replied.
“My heart stopped. “Yes. Did you find him?”
“He’s here right now.”
“I’m coming. Please don’t let him leave!”
I rolled off my apron and took the subway to Manhattan where the bar was located , with my pregnant belly making everything difficult. I will be due any time soon but all I care about is the stranger.
By the time I reached the bar, I was out of breath but I didn't care because he was there.
I walked into the bar and there he was in the same spot looking richer and more handsome than I remembered.
I walked towards him on shaking legs. He looked up, his eyes traveling to my pregnant belly, then back to my face.
“You.” My voice cracked. “I’ve been looking for you for eight months.”
Who are you?” My breath caught the moment I heard those words.
“What?” I blinked at him. “You don’t remember me?”
He leaned back slightly, studying me like I was a stranger. “Should I?”
My world tilted.
“We spent a night together,” I said quickly. “Eight months ago. You were at this hotel. We were both drunk…”
He raised a hand. “Ah.” He exhaled. “That night.”
Relief hit me so hard my knees almost weakened.
“Yes. That night.” My voice cracked. “I’ve been looking for you. I need to talk to you. I’m pregnant.”
Silence. Then he laughed. Not warm or shocked but cold.
“What?” I whispered.
He picked up his glass again and took a slow sip.
“You’re telling me you came all this way to say I got you pregnant from a one-night stand?”
“It’s not just that,” I said quickly. “I know it’s yours. I’ve never been with anyone else.”
His expression darkened slightly.“That’s what they all say.”
Rage and panic twisted inside me. “I’m not lying.”
He leaned forward now, voice lower. “Women like you always show up with this story,” he said. “Looking for money. Looking for a payout.”
My stomach dropped. “I don’t want your money.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to know you’re going to be a father,” I said, tears rising. “Take responsibility.”
He stood slowly and suddenly, he was towering over me.
“We didn’t create anything,” he said coldly. “You got drunk. You threw yourself at me. And now you’re trying to trap me with a baby that’s probably not even mine.”
“I didn’t throw myself at you.”
“You saw a drunk man and decided what you wanted from him.”
“That’s not what happened…”
“You’re lying,” he cut in sharply. “And I don’t deal with women who turn one mistake into a lifetime demand.”
The words hit like a slap.
“I’m not lying to you,” I whispered. “I’m asking for a paternity test. That’s it. We can go to any hospital you choose.”
“Take pity on me, I…I…"
He closed his laptop, interrupting my speech as he faced me.
"You can't leave" I quickly said while blocking his way.
“I’ve listened enough,” he interrupted. “And I don’t deal with emotional stories or assumptions.”
Tears burned my eyes.
“I’m not asking you for money,” I said again, desperate now. “I just need you to take responsibility.”
That word made his jaw tighten. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a thick bundle of cash which he dropped onto the table between us.
My breath caught as I stared at the money.
“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. “But I also don’t care enough to argue about it.”
“I don’t want your money.” I said staring at it
“Then don’t take it,” he replied.
Silence stretched.
He picked up his laptop like this was already over.
Then paused at the door.
Without looking back, he said:
“Listen carefully.”
My heart pounded.
“If you’re lying, don’t ever come near me again.”
I swallowed hard. “And if I’m not?” I asked, voice breaking.
That made him stop for a second. He turned his head slightly.
“If you have that child,” he said coldly, “bring it back in one year. I will be waiting here.”
My breath hitched at what he said.
“I’ll take responsibility then,” he continued. “But only then.”
My chest tightened painfully. “So you’re just going to walk away?” I whispered.
The door closed behind him. And the silence that followed felt louder than everything he had said.
I stood there frozen, his words still ringing in my ears.
One year.
As if the next twelve months of my life meant nothing.
My hands slowly moved to my stomach. But suddenly… everything inside me twisted.
A sharp pain ripped through my lower abdomen and I gasped.
“No… no, no…”
I grabbed the counter for support as the pain came again, stronger this time.
My legs shook as something warm spread down my thighs.
My breath hitched.
“I think…” I choked. “The baby… it’s coming.”
The bartenders rushed toward me.
“Call an ambulance!” he shouted.
But I was already collapsing. The world blurred, voices echoing around me as I slid down to the floor, one thought burning through the pain…
He was gone.
And I was alone.
- Writer
