Chapter 9: Two Red Lines
1067 Words
Chapter 9: Two Red Lines
The nausea hadn’t stopped for days. At first, Rachel chalked it up to stress, grief, and the nerves of preparing for a big move. But when the sight of eggs made her gag and she couldn’t hold down her breakfast three mornings in a row, Jennie raised a brow.
Jennie (teasingly):
“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant?”
Rachel paused mid-sip of her water. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Rachel (whispering):
“No… I mean… it was only once…”
Jennie’s smile faded. “Rach. It only takes once.”
Rachel went silent. The rest of the day passed in a blur.
That night, at the dinner table, the smell of sautéed onions hit her like a wave. Her stomach lurched. She barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up everything she’d eaten.
A knock came on the bathroom door.
Kathy (gently):
“Rachel, honey? Can we talk?”
Rachel cracked the door open, eyes wide and frightened. Kathy’s face softened immediately at the sight of her daughter—so pale, so shaken.
Rachel (voice breaking):
“Mom… I’m scared.”
Her mother held her close. “Let’s just check first. Okay? Your dad’s gone to get a kit.”
Rachel nodded mutely, hugging her mother as if she might fall apart.
Ten minutes later.
Rachel stood in the bathroom, the plastic test trembling in her hand. Her eyes were fixed on it. It felt like time had stopped.
Two red lines.
Her knees buckled, and she sat on the closed toilet lid, stunned into silence.
Kathy opened the door slowly. “Rachel?”
She didn’t need to ask. She saw her daughter’s face.
Rachel (barely audible):
“I’m pregnant.”
Kathy’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh… sweetheart.”
Rachel sat at the edge of the couch, the three pregnancy tests lying in a neat row on the coffee table. Her hands trembled slightly, and her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Kathy picked up one of the tests and then the others. She didn’t need to read the results a second time. Her eyes glistened, but she said nothing.
Edmond sat across from them, arms crossed. His jaw was tight, and his eyes searched Rachel’s face.
Edmond:
“Who’s the father?”
Rachel flinched, her lips parting slightly, as if trying to delay the truth.
Rachel (barely above a whisper):
“Bruce.”
The name dropped into the room like a bomb.
Edmond’s face darkened, his fingers curling into fists. The silence was thick with the weight of betrayal.
Edmond (muttering):
“That bastard.”
Rachel’s eyes brimmed with tears. “He’s… he’s with Amanda now. He won’t care. He never did.”
Kathy reached out and took her daughter’s hand gently, as though trying to anchor her back into safety.
Kathy (softly):
“Oh, sweetheart…”
Edmond stood and paced, running a hand through his hair before letting out a long, slow breath.
Edmond:
“So… he used you, then threw you away. Like we wouldn’t find out. Like you’re disposable.”
Rachel (crying):
“Dad, I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was just once… I loved him. I really thought he—”
Her voice broke. She covered her face with her hands, sobbing.
Edmond paused, then walked over to her. He crouched in front of her, gripping her shoulders firmly but gently.
Edmond (voice steady, emotional):
“Rach. Listen to me. Look at me.”
She looked up slowly, tears streaking her cheeks.
Edmond:
“You are not shameful. You are not ruined. You made a choice out of love—and someone took advantage of that. But we’re not angry at you. We’re here, okay? Me and your mom. We’re not going anywhere.”
Kathy wrapped an arm around her from behind, kissing the top of her head.
Kathy:
“This baby… it wasn’t planned, but maybe—just maybe—they’re a gift. And if you choose to keep them, we’ll help you raise them. All the way.”
Rachel:
“I don’t know what to do. Mom… I can’t go to Switzerland now. I can’t be a doctor and a mom. I don’t even know how to be a mom.”
Kathy knelt in front of her, cupping her face.
Edmond sat beside her now, firm and loving.
Edmond:
“No. Absolutely not. You’re going. We didn’t raise you to throw away your future just because someone tried to destroy it. You go to Switzerland. You become the doctor you’ve always dreamed of being. And we’ll handle the rest.”
Rachel blinked at him.
Rachel:
“Even… with the baby?”
Edmond (nodding):
“Yes. With the baby. We'll figure out everything. Diapers, strollers, daycare. We’ll visit. Video calls. Your mom will knit embarrassing sweaters. I’ll read bedtime stories over the phone if I have to.”
Kathy:
“You can still go. You must go. This baby isn’t the end of your dreams—it’s the reason you have to fight harder for them.”
Rachel (tears falling):
“But it’s so far. How will I manage? I have no one there. No money. No—”
Edmond (from the doorway):
“You have us.”
They turned to see him standing there, his police cap still in hand, his face resolute.
Edmond (stepping in):
“We’ll figure it out. I’ll take on extra shifts. Your mom will sell those heirloom silver spoons if she has to.”
Kathy (gently elbowing him):
“I was saving those for your retirement party.”
They all chuckled—softly, tearfully.
Edmond walked to Rachel and took her hand.
Edmond (gently):
“Rach… this child? They’re a blessing, not a burden. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. You’ll be a wonderful mother and a brilliant doctor. I know it. We know it.”
Rachel:
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. And Bruce… he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t care.”
Kathy (gently):
“Then he doesn’t deserve to. This baby has us. And they have you.”
Rachel nodded slowly, hugging her parents tight. Their warmth, their strength, their unwavering belief in her—it was the lifeline she didn’t know she needed.
Rachel spent the night in turmoil. She was young, alone, and now pregnant. But a quiet voice within whispered—
"Keep it. Raise this baby. Choose life."
- Writer
