Accidental Heir

CHATER FOUR

Amara's POV

The clinic smelled like antiseptic and cold air.

Too bright.

Too clean.

Too quiet.

I sat on the examination bed with my legs dangling off the edge, my fingers tapping restlessly against my thighs as I waited for the doctor to come back with the results. Liana sat beside me, scrolling through her phone, but I could feel her eyes flick up to me every few seconds like she was afraid I might disappear if she looked away too long.

I pressed a hand against my stomach, still flat, still innocent-looking, still impossible to reconcile with the truth I already knew.

I was pregnant.

I didn’t need a doctor to tell me that. But hearing it confirmed… that was different. That made it real. Permanent. Unavoidable.

When the door finally opened, Dr. Mike stepped in with the kind of calm smile that was meant to soothe, but somehow made my breath catch instead.

“Amara,” he said gently, taking his seat. “We’ve run the blood test. You are indeed pregnant.”

The words hit harder than the test ever could.

Liana squeezed my hand, and I held onto her like she was the only thing keeping me upright.

“How far along?” I asked, surprised by how steady my voice sounded.

“Roughly six weeks,” he replied. “Everything looks normal. Healthy. If you choose to continue the pregnancy, we’ll set up your first prenatal appointment.”

If you choose…

The words echoed painfully.

As if there was a choice. As if I could walk out of here, pretend my life wasn’t already split into a before and after.

Dr. Mike hesitated before continuing. “Do you have a support system? Family? The father?”

My throat tightened. “No. He… he’s not in the picture.”

“Do you want him to be?” Liana asked softly beside me.

A thousand images flashed through my mind at once, the stranger’s face half-shadowed by club lights, the warmth of his fingertips, his voice in my ear, the way he made me feel like I could breathe for the first time in years.

But that was the problem.

It was only one night.

One reckless, perfect, impossible night.

“I don’t know him,” I whispered. “And I don’t even know if he’d care.”

“Then you focus on you and the baby,” Dr. Mike said gently. “We take it one step at a time.”

One step at a time.

Everyone kept saying that.

As if my entire world wasn’t already collapsing and reshaping itself in ways I couldn’t control.

When we left the clinic, the afternoon sun seemed too bright. Too alive. People rushed by us on the sidewalk, laughing, talking, living their normal, predictable lives.

And I was standing there, clutching a piece of paper with my name and Estimated Due Date printed across the top.

My eyes burned.

Liana looped her arm through mine. “We’ll figure this out, okay? I promise.”

I nodded, because what else could I do?

But inside me, something fragile and fierce was beginning to take root.

I wasn’t ready.

I was terrified.

But I already loved this tiny, growing life more than I understood.

And ready or not…

I was going to be a mother.