CHAPTER 3: TWO PINK LINES
859 Words
One month after the hotel night, Ada’s body started betraying her.
She couldn’t keep food down. Her breasts were tender. She slept 12 hours but still felt tired. Every morning, Lagos traffic made her nauseous.
“Just stress,” she told herself. “Mama’s surgery. New job. It’s nothing.”
But deep down, Ada knew. Women know these things.
On Monday, her first day as Daniel’s personal secretary, she nearly vomited in his office. The smell of his coffee. His cologne. Everything turned her stomach.
Daniel frowned from his desk. “Miss Okafor, are you sick?”
“No sir,” Ada whispered, gripping her desk. “I’m fine.”
His black eyes studied her for 3 seconds too long. “Go home if you’re not well.”
Ada shook her head. She couldn’t afford to lose this job. ₦150,000 per month. Double her old salary. Money to replace the dirty $2000.
She worked through the nausea. Typed emails. Brought files. Smiled when Daniel spoke to her. He never remembered her face. Never looked at her like Room 1402.
But sometimes… sometimes he paused when she entered. Like he was searching for something in her eyes.
Ada told herself she was imagining it.
After work, she rushed to a pharmacy in Yaba. Bought a pregnancy test. ₦500. Her hands shook at the cashier.
In her one-room apartment bathroom, Ada sat on the toilet seat and stared at the plastic stick.
She prayed. “God, please no. Not after one night. Not after I promised myself never again.”
She dipped the stick. Waited 3 minutes that felt like 3 years.
Two pink lines appeared.
Ada’s world crashed.
Pregnant.
She dropped the stick. It clattered on the floor. Her hands covered her mouth to stop the scream.
“NO,” she whispered. Tears poured down her face. “No no. This can’t be happening.”
One night. One mistake. One baby.
She calculated the dates in her head. Last period was 6 weeks ago. Right after Eko Hotel.
The baby was Daniel Okafor’s.
The CEO. The ruthless billionaire. The man who said “No names. No attachments. No consequences.”
Consequences found her anyway.
Ada pressed her forehead against the cold bathroom tiles and cried. How would she tell him? Would he believe her? Would he think she planned this? That she trapped him?
She had no money for abortion. And even if she did, her mother taught her: “Ada, every life is a gift from God.”
Her mother was recovering from cancer. Now Ada was carrying new life.
The irony tasted bitter.
That night, Ada couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed, one hand on her flat stomach. No bump yet. Just fear.
“What do I do?” she whispered to the darkness. “What do I do?”
Friday morning, Daniel called her into his office. “Miss Okafor, I need coffee. Black. No sugar.”
Ada stood up too fast. The room spun. Her stomach lurched.
She made it 3 steps before her knees buckled.
The world went black.
She woke up on the office couch. Daniel stood over her, his face tight with concern. His cologne was too close. Too familiar.
“Doctor is coming,” he said coldly. “What’s wrong with you?”
Ada’s heart hammered. She couldn’t tell him. Not here. Not like this.
“Low blood sugar, sir,” she lied, voice shaking. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. Black fire looking into her soul. Like he knew she was lying.
“From now on, eat before work,” he said. He handed her a bottle of water. His fingers brushed hers.
Ada felt electricity shoot up her arm. The same electricity from Room 1402.
Daniel pulled his hand back like he got burned too. His jaw tightened.
“Go home, Miss Okafor. That’s an order.”
Ada nodded and stood up carefully. As she walked to the door, she heard Daniel mutter behind her:
“Why does she look so familiar…”
Ada froze. Her blood turned to ice.
He was starting to remember.
She rushed out of his office, heart pounding. She needed to hide this pregnancy. At least until she figured out what to do.
But secrets don’t stay hidden in Okafor Industries.
Because at the parking lot, another man was waiting for her.
David Okafor. Daniel’s younger brother. Charming smile. Soft eyes. The opposite of Daniel.
“Hey beautiful,” David said, leaning on his car. “You look pale. Rough day?”
Ada forced a smile. “I’m fine, Mr. David.”
David walked closer. He smelled like citrus, not danger. “Call me David. And you’re not fine. Let me take you home.”
Ada wanted to refuse. But her legs were still weak. And David’s kindness felt safe.
“Just this once,” she said, getting into his car.
David smiled. “I won’t bite. Unlike my brother.”
Ada looked out the window, one hand instinctively covering her stomach.
Two pink lines. One baby. Two Okafor brothers.
And she had no idea which one was the father.
- Writer
