Before I Was Born
946 Words
"Tell me that isn't real."
Noah's voice barely rose above a whisper.
But somehow, it hit harder than a scream.
I stared at him.
At the pain in his eyes.
At the disbelief.
At the way he looked like someone had just ripped the ground out from under him.
My mouth opened.
Then closed again.
Because I didn't know what to say.
I didn't know what was real anymore.
The silence stretched between us.
Heavy.
Painful.
Noah let out a shaky laugh.
The kind people make when they're trying not to break.
"Say something, Jasmine."
I looked down at the phone.
The hotel record was still there.
Mocking me.
Guest Name: Jasmine Carter.
Additional Authorized Guest: Ethan Black.
I remembered none of it.
Not the room.
Not the registration.
Not any of it.
"I don't remember," I whispered.
Noah's face tightened.
"What?"
"I don't remember that night."
The words sounded weak even to me.
His eyes searched mine.
Looking for something.
Maybe honesty.
Maybe proof.
Maybe a reason to keep believing me.
"You don't remember checking into a hotel with Ethan?"
"No."
"You don't remember spending the night with him?"
My stomach twisted.
"No."
Noah looked away.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then he nodded slowly.
Too slowly.
Like he was trying to convince himself.
"I defended you."
His voice cracked.
The sound shattered something inside me.
"I know."
"I defended you every single time."
My eyes burned.
"Noah—"
"When people talked about you, I defended you."
He laughed bitterly.
"When my family said you would hurt me, I defended you."
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
Because I knew exactly what he was thinking.
And I hated that I couldn't prove him wrong.
Then his gaze dropped.
To the drawer.
The drawer where I had hidden the pregnancy test.
My entire body went rigid.
Please don't.
Please.
Noah noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
"What is it?"
Nothing.
The word sat in my throat.
Refusing to come out.
Noah stepped closer.
My pulse exploded.
"Jasmine."
I shook my head.
"No."
His expression darkened.
"No what?"
"Please."
He stared at me.
Then at the drawer.
Then back at me.
And suddenly he understood.
Not everything.
But enough.
His face went pale.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
He pulled open the drawer.
I stopped breathing.
The pregnancy test sat exactly where I'd left it.
Two pink lines.
Impossible to misunderstand.
The room fell silent.
Completely silent.
Noah didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even seem to breathe.
I wanted to say something.
Anything.
But no words came.
Minutes felt like hours.
Then Noah finally looked at me.
And the devastation in his eyes nearly destroyed me.
"You're pregnant?"
The question sounded broken.
I nodded.
A single tear slid down his face.
And somehow that hurt more than anger ever could.
"When were you going to tell me?"
"I was trying to."
"When?"
His voice rose.
For the first time.
"When, Jasmine?"
I flinched.
Immediately guilt flashed across his face.
He looked away.
Running a hand through his hair.
Trying to control himself.
Trying not to fall apart.
"I don't know who the father is," I admitted.
The words hung in the air.
The moment they left my mouth, I wanted to take them back.
Noah closed his eyes.
Like the sentence physically hurt him.
I hated myself.
I hated this.
I hated every second of it.
Then suddenly—
The front door opened.
Both of us turned.
Stacy rushed inside.
Her face was pale.
Panicked.
Terrified.
"Jasmine!"
I immediately stood.
"What happened?"
She looked from me to Noah.
Then back again.
As if she wasn't sure whether to speak.
"What happened?" I repeated.
Stacy swallowed.
"I went to Ethan's apartment."
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
"He wasn't there."
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
"What do you mean?"
"He left."
The room became very still.
"He packed bags," Stacy continued.
"His neighbors said he left an hour ago."
Noah frowned.
"Left where?"
Stacy shook her head.
"No one knows."
Fear settled in my stomach.
Deep and heavy.
Like a stone.
Ethan had disappeared.
Right when everything was falling apart.
Right when questions were finally being asked.
My phone vibrated.
All three of us jumped.
Unknown Number.
Again.
With shaking hands, I opened it.
A single message appeared.
Too late.
My blood turned cold.
Then another message arrived.
This one contained a photograph.
I opened it.
And immediately wished I hadn't.
The image showed Ethan.
He was sitting inside what looked like an airport terminal.
A suitcase beside him.
A baseball cap pulled low over his face.
He looked exhausted.
Afraid.
Like he was running.
"What is this?" Noah asked.
I couldn't answer.
Because another message had arrived.
And another.
The final one contained only seven words.
Ethan didn't tell you the worst part.
My heart pounded.
The screen refreshed.
One final message appeared beneath it.
The baby isn't the secret you should fear.
I felt every drop of blood leave my body.
Noah stepped closer.
"What does that mean?"
I didn't know.
But whoever was behind these messages did.
And they weren't finished.
A new image loaded onto the screen.
This one was older.
Much older.
The date stamp was from years ago.
Long before I met Noah.
Long before Ethan.
Long before any of this.
At first I didn't understand what I was looking at.
Then I saw the faces.
My breath caught.
Noah's father.
A younger Ethan.
And standing beside them...
Was my mother.
I stared at the photograph.
My vision blurred.
My heart stopped.
Because on the back of the photo, written in faded blue ink, were four words that changed everything.
Find out who you are.
- Writer
