CHAPTER 2; WEEKS LATER
1140 Words
It had been almost five weeks since Paris.
Emma was back to Italy
Emma had stopped trying to forget it. The memory didn’t want to be forgotten. It clung to her — in her dreams, in the mirror, in the ache in her chest she couldn’t explain. Most nights she still thought about the hotel room, the heat of his hands, the way he touched her like he’d been waiting his whole life. The way he looked at her. Like she was wanted. Like she was enough.
And then he was gone.
She didn’t even know his name.
Just his face. And how he made her feel.
She had never told anyone. Not even Diana. She had planned to take it to her grave.
But things were changing now.
Fast.
---
The nausea started two weeks ago. Quietly, at first. A twist in her stomach in the morning. A dizzy spell after coffee. Then her period was late. Then it was really late.
Emma sat at the edge of her bed, staring at her calendar. She didn’t need a test. Her body already knew. She just hadn’t said it out loud yet.
She was pregnant.
Her chest tightened. Her fingers dug into the blanket.
She hadn’t even kissed anyone else that year.
She didn’t even know the name of her baby’s father.
She didn’t even know how to breathe.
---
That week, her mother called again.
“Your father wants to see you. We’re all having dinner at the house this Saturday. Elena will be there.”
Emma stood by her kitchen window, phone in hand, staring at the street. Everything looked so normal outside. The sky was soft, the trees barely moving. But inside, her heart was racing.
“I can’t make it,” she said softly.
“Emma.”
“I’m not coming, Mamma.”
There was a pause. Then the voice hardened.
“We haven’t seen you in weeks. You think hiding in that apartment makes you safe from who you are? You’re a Moretti. That doesn’t go away.”
Emma’s eyes stung. “I just need time.”
“You don’t have time, baby. You’re twenty-seven. When are you going to settle down? You think we’ll wait forever for you to come to your senses? We raised you better than this.”
Emma hung up.
She didn’t have the strength to argue.
She didn’t even have the strength to tell them she was pregnant.
---
Later that day, Diana her best friend from college showed up.
“Get dressed,” she said, standing at Emma’s door with sunglasses on and a bag of pastries.
“I’m not in the mood,” Emma said, her voice flat.
Diana pushed past her anyway. “Too bad. I brought lemon tarts.”
“You know I hate lemon.”
“You liked them in school.”
Emma closed the door and followed her into the kitchen. Diana set the bag on the counter, pulled out plates like she owned the place, and raised an eyebrow.
“You look like hell.”
Emma sighed. “Thanks.”
“You’re pale. Your eyes are puffy. And you haven’t posted anything in three weeks. That’s how I know something’s really wrong.”
Emma opened the fridge, then closed it. She wasn’t hungry. She hadn’t really been eating much.
Diana watched her carefully.
“What happened in Paris?”
Emma didn’t answer.
Diana stepped closer. “Emma.”
Emma stared at the counter.
Her hands trembled slightly.
Then the words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“I slept with someone.”
Silence.
Diana blinked.
“In Paris?”
Emma nodded.
“Was it someone you knew?”
“No. I met him at a club.”
Diana’s jaw dropped slightly. “You? Had a one-night stand? In Paris?”
Emma laughed bitterly. “Don’t say it like that.”
“I’m just shocked. You always say s*x needs to mean something.”
“It did.”
Emma sat down, her hands gripping the edge of the table.
“It did mean something. That’s the worst part. It didn’t feel random. It felt like…”
She stopped.
Diana sat beside her, her voice softer now. “Like what?”
“Like we knew each other. Like we were supposed to find each other.”
Diana was quiet.
Emma shook her head.
“But I don’t even know his name. I don’t know anything about him.”
“And he left?”
“Before morning.”
Emma looked down.
“And now I’m pregnant.”
Diana’s breath caught.
“Oh my God.”
Emma couldn’t meet her eyes.
Diana reached for her hand. “Have you taken a test?”
Emma nodded. “Two.”
“And?”
Emma didn’t answer.
Her silence was enough.
Diana let out a slow breath and squeezed her hand. “Okay. We’ll figure this out.”
“No, I have to figure this out.”
“You’re not alone.”
“Yes, I am.” Emma stood up. Her voice cracked. “What do I tell my parents? That their perfect daughter got pregnant in another country by a stranger she can’t even name? You think they’ll understand that?”
Diana stood too. “You don’t have to tell them yet.”
“They’re already calling. Inviting me over. Talking about marriage and Marco. Do you know how many times they’ve tried to force him into my life?”
“They don’t know.”
Emma looked at her. “Exactly. And when they find out, it won’t be gentle.”
She walked to the window again, arms crossed over her chest.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing. I haven’t even decided if I’m keeping it.”
Diana came over and stood beside her. “But you haven’t said you’re not.”
Emma’s lips trembled.
“I don’t think I can give it up.”
Diana smiled sadly. “Then you already know.”
Emma leaned her head against the glass. The street was quiet again. But inside her, everything was loud.
---
That night, Emma lay in bed with the lights off.
She placed her hand gently over her stomach.
It still felt flat and normal.
But it wasn’t.
Something new was growing there. A life she didn’t expect. A life she didn’t plan for. A life tied to a man whose face she remembered better than her own.
She thought of his eyes. His voice. The way he touched her, too.
Then she thought of her family. The mansion. The cold dinners. Her father’s disappointment. Her mother’s controlling hands. The silence between them all, polished and pretty.
What would they say when they found out?
She didn’t want to know.
But the truth was coming.
And it wouldn’t stay quiet forever.
- Writer
