The Doorman

Fourteen Weeks

I don't even remember the walk back to the apartment, just the wetness on my cheeks and the relentless, buzzing vibration of my phone in my pocket. I locked the door behind me, chaining it for good measure, acting on instinct rather than thought. I curled up, shattered. He cheated. The man who promised me the world broke it in one afternoon. I clutched my stomach, the devesting reality sinking in: I was pregnant. I'm carrying his child, and I am completely alone.

I turned off my phone, silencing the guilt-ridden calls. But I couldn't stop the knock that followed.

"Baby, please! Let me in!" John's voice sounded muffled through the heavy door.

"Never."

The image of them kissing was seared into my mind, a toxic image I couldn't blink away. I curled tighter, trapped inside my own head with the vision of his betrayal, praying I could wake up from this nightmare.

I cried until the darkness swallowed me whole, a heavy, suffocating weight that lasted all night. When morning broke. I didn't feel rested; I felt hollow. Pulling myself together felt like performing a role, a robotic routine of showering and dressing for a job I barely felt present for. I packed a bag, knowing I couldn't return to my apartment—I needed to escape, to be alone.

I took a different, unfamiliar route to work, watching the city blur by from the train window. I skipped my usual bagel; the familiar lump in my throat made the thought of eating impossible, as if I were already full of grief. The workday was a smudge of hours, a haze I barely moved through. My phone buzzed incessantly in my pocket—notifications, calls—but I left them all unread, ignored, and silent. Finally, I texted Ava, needing an escape hatch. She welcomed me instantly, and I let out a breath I felt I'd been holding for hours.

Susan texted me, saying John had been trying to reach me. I simply replied.

"I know."

I told her a version of what happened, carefully concealing the truth about the pregnancy—I couldn't risk her saying anything to Alec. She was heartbroken for me, and I felt guilty for the omission. I told her I'd be off my phone for a few days, urging her not to worry, and promised to reach out when I was ready. She understood.

That Thursday afternoon, I went to Ava's. I slept on her couch, pouring my heart out to her. I was incredibly grateful for her friendship. But I knew I couldn't hide forever. Without a working chain on my apartment door, I was certain John would stop by. So, on Friday, I called the superintendent and demanded the locks changed. It cost me fifty dollars, but it was worth it. When I finally returned to my apartment, I knew John wouldn't be able to get in.

Friday evening, Ava laid out the plan: she was taking me to the free clinic to confirm the pregnancy and get prenatal vitamins. I felt a wave of panic.

"What am I supposed to do? Ava?"

She looked at me intently, not offering an easy answer.

"That's the one question only you can answer. No one else can tell you what to do her."

"I know," I whispered,

"But John has to know about his baby."

I paused, my throat tightening. "I just......cannot be the one to tell him. He is seeing someone new. I won't interfere in his relationship, and I refuse to make his life difficult just because I'm carrying his child. I'll figure this out on my own. I can do this. I have to," I added quickly.

"I might need to find a different apartment, though. I can't risk running into him."

Ava shook her head, her voice firm." "You are making a mistake. It doesn't matter if he has a new girlfriend; he has a right to know."

I stared at the floor, the gravity of it sinking in.

"Okay," I said finally. "I'll tell him. And then I'll tell him to leave me alone. I took a deep breath.

"After the clinic appointment, I'll tell Susan. I know she'll tell Alec, and Alec will tell John."

Saturday arrived far too quickly. Ava and I arrived at the clinic, nervous taut, but the quick examination brought a shock that left me breathless: I was ten weeks pregnant. Ten weeks. I had been carrying this secret longer than I realized. As the nurse handed me prenatal vitamins and scheduled my next appointment, my mind raced. I walked into the waiting area to find Ava, my face pale.

"What did they say? She asked.

"Ten weeks," I whispered.

She was shocked, and immediately, the pressure began.

"What are your plans now?"

"All I want to do is run away," I confessed.

"You have to talk to him, eventually," Ava urged.

"There's nothing to talk about. What if he doesn't want the baby? What if he thinks this will cramp his style, especially with his new relationship? I panicked.

"Ava, let me think about it for a couple of weeks before I say anything."

A couple of weeks turned into a month. I lived in a self-imposed exile, dodging John whenever I saw him lurking outside my apartment. I became a master of evasion, hiding behind corners or blending into groups of people entering the building to avoid his gaze. But by fourteen weeks, I couldn't hide everything; a small, undeniable bump was beginning to show, and I knew I needed to find a new place—somewhere I didn't have to live in fear.

It was a craving for ice-cream that finally betrayed me. Walking to the corner store, I didn't see him until I was right in his path. Before I could turn back, John saw me. He instantly wrapped me in a hug so tight I thought I would stop breathing, his scent washing over me, bringing back a torrent of feelings I had tried to bury.

"I have been searching for you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I need to explain what happened."

MY heart was hammering against my ribs, a traitor in my chest. I still love him so much.

"There is nothing to explain," I said, pulling away, forcing my voice to stay cold. "You've moved on, and so have I."

"What do you mean by that?" John asked, confusion in his eyes.

I didn't answer. When he hugged me again, his hands settled on my waist, and he froze. His fingers traced the curve of my belly, and he looked down.

"What is that?"

"What is what? I feigned ignorance, my voice trembling.

He placed his hand firmly on my stomach.

"That. Are you pregnant?

I looked down at my feet, my hand going to my tummy, mirroring his,"Yes, I am."

"Is it mine?"

"Yes it is."

"How far along are you? He asked, breathless.

"Fourteen weeks."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I wasn't sure," I admitted, tears prickling my eyes. "I didn't want to interfere with your life, or make you feel obligated to care for us."

"What?" he looked stunned. "Can we go somewhere to talk for a moment, please?'

"I....I need to get some ice-cream," I stammered. "This baby......."

"Are you having cravings?" he asked, a soft, almost hopeful smile breaking through his shock.

"Yes."

"Let me get it," he said, taking my hand. "Let me take care of you. PLease."

After he finished paying for the ice-cream, John took my hand, his fingers lacing firmly through mine as we walked to a nearby park. We found a quiet bench, and I dug in, momentarily distracted by the sweetness. He didn't eat; he just watched me, his gaze heavy with something I couldn't yet name.

"I need to start by saying I'm sorry," he began, his voice low.

I froze, the spoon halfway to my mouth.

"That day you came to the apartment.... I was asleep on the sofa. The girl you saw was my ex. She used to live in the building, and I'd given her a key back. When we broke up, and she moved away, I never thought about asking for it back. I didn't even know she was back in town."

He leaned closer, desperate for me to see the truth in his eyes. "I woke up to her unbuttoning my shirt. I stopped her immediately. She was trying to seduce me, but I felt nothing for her. When she pressed her lips on mine, I was in total shock. I didn't kiss her back, I promise you. I have never stopped loving you. You are the absolute love of my life."

He took a shaky breath, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"And now that you're carrying my baby, I want us to be a family. I want you to move in so I can take care of both of you."

My head snapped up, my eyes wide." What?" "John, just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean we're obligated to live together."

"Is that what you were coming to tell me that day?" he asked softly. Before you saw her?"

"Yes," I admitted, the memory of that heartbreak resurfacing. "I was so miserable, John, I thought you were cheating on me. It nearly destroyed me."

"I could never do that to you, he murmured. He reached out, his hand cupping my face, his thumb grazing my cheekbone. Then, he leaned in and claimed my mouth in a kiss so hungry it made my breath hitch. Every nerve in my body electrified; my heart hammered against my ribs, beating only for him.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and dizzy, he rested his forehead against mine.

"Let's move in together. Please," he pleaded. "I never want to be apart from you again. This past month has been torture. Say yes."

I looked into his eyes, felt the sincerity radiating off him, and finally, I nodded.

"Yes."