I'm Not His Wife, But I'm Carrying His Baby

الكتابة The waiting room smelled of antiseptic and bad news. Asia sat alone on a black leather couch, her fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of her purse. Across from her, pregnant women chatted quietly while flipping through parenting magazines or absentmindedly rubbing their swollen bellies. Some looked exhausted. Others smiled as if they couldn't wait to meet their babies. She envied every single one of them. At least they knew why they were here. She didn't. For an entire week, her body had felt like it no longer belonged to her. Every morning began with nausea. Every afternoon brought dizzy spells. By evening, even climbing the stairs to her apartment left her breathless. Stress, she had told herself. Too much work. Not enough sleep. The explanations sounded convincing—until they stopped making sense. "Miss Asia?" She looked up. A nurse stood at the doorway, offering her a polite smile. "The doctor is ready for you." Asia forced herself to stand. The examination took less than five minutes. Five minutes that quietly divided her life into a before... and an after. The doctor returned to her chair with a warm smile. "Congratulations." Asia frowned. "I'm sorry?" "You're about eight weeks pregnant." Silence. She blinked once. Then twice. A nervous laugh escaped her lips. "That isn't funny." The doctor's smile slowly disappeared. "I'm not joking." "No." Asia shook her head, her voice trembling. "Your test is wrong." "It isn't." "It has to be." The doctor folded her hands on the desk. "Why?" Because it was impossible. Because impossible things didn't happen to ordinary women. Asia swallowed hard before forcing the words past her lips. "I'm not married." The doctor remained silent. "And..." Her voice cracked. "I've never been with a man." For the first time, the doctor had no answer. Only silence. The kind of silence that changes everything.