Chapter 12
981 Words
BELLA'S POV - THREE WEEKS LATER
The morning sickness is now getting worse.
I barely made it to Mrs. Kovač's bathroom before I was retching into the toilet, my whole body shaking with the force of it. Six weeks pregnant now, and the nausea had gone from been occasionally to constantly, is like a rolling wave that hit me at random times throughout the day.
"Elena? You okay, draga?" Mrs. Kovač's concerned voice came through the bathroom door.
Elena. That's my new name and new identity. The woman I'd become in the three weeks since I'd escaped Sokolov's men by the skin of my teeth.
"I'm fine," I called back, with my hoarse voice. "Just a stomach bug. I'll be out in a minute."
I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth at the sink, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I looked like hell...pale, with dark circles under my eyes, and my cheekbones that are more prominent than they should be. The baby was taking everything I had, and I was barely managing to keep even a cracker down.
But I am alive and the baby is alive too. That's what mattered.
That jump between buildings three weeks ago had been the stupidest, most reckless thing I'd ever done in my nineteen years of life. I'd landed hard on the floor, with my ankle screaming in protest, and for a terrifying moment I'd been sure I was going to fall backward into empty air. But I'd caught myself, and scrambled through the window, and run.
I'd run until my lungs burned and my legs gave out. Until I found myself on the opposite side of Kotor, huddled in a storage closet behind a restaurant, crying and shaking and checking myself obsessively for signs of bleeding.
My baby had survived. Somehow, miraculously, my baby had survived my stupidity.
And I'd promised right then that I'd never be that reckless again.
I'd found a new apartment the next day, it is even smaller than the last one, but in a different part of the town, I paid for it with cash under yet another fake name. Then I'd laid low for two weeks, terrified that Sokolov's men were still looking for me.
But eventually, the money situation became critical. I'd burned through a chunk of Viktor's fifty thousand euros on deposits and bribes to get fake documents that would pass casual inspection. I needed income which means I need to get a job.
So when Mrs. Kovač had offered me again to work at her café with no questions asked, and cash under the table I'd accepted despite the risk.
That had been a week ago. So far, no one had found me. No Sokolov soldiers orViktor.
Just me and my baby, hiding in plain sight.
I emerged from the bathroom to find Mrs. Kovač waiting with a cup of ginger tea and a plate of plain crackers.
"Sit," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument. "You eat. You drink. This 'stomach bug' is making you too thin."
"I'm fine, really..."
"You're not fine." She pushed me gently into a chair and set the food in front of me. "I have five children, draga. I know what morning sickness looks like."
My heart stopped. "I don't know what you..."
"Please." She waved a dismissive hand. "You think I don't notice? The nausea, the smell sensitivity, the way you run to bathroom three times before lunch?" Her expression softened. "How far along?"
I could lie in fact I should lie. But something in her kind, knowing eyes made the truth spill out.
"Six weeks." My hand went automatically to my still-flat stomach. "Maybe seven. I'm not exactly sure."
"And the father?"
"Gone." The word tasted bitter. "He... it was a mistake. He doesn't want anything to do with me."
Or the baby. Though Viktor didn't know about the baby. Couldn't know about it and would never know if I had anything to say about it.
Mrs. Kovač made a disgusted sound. "Men. Always the same story. They take what they want, then run when there are consequences." She patted my hand. "But you're strong. I see it in you. You'll manage."
"I have to." I took a small sip of the ginger tea, letting the warmth soothe my churning stomach. "I don't have anyone else. It's just me and..."
"And your baby." She smiled. "You need doctor, yes? For prenatal care?"
"I found someone." Dr. Marković, the off-the-books physician who'd agreed to see me for cash. "I have an appointment in two weeks."
"Good. And you need to eat more. The baby needs nutrition." She pushed the crackers closer. "I bring you home tonight...soup, bread, good food. You're too skinny."
Tears pricked my eyes at the simple kindness. I'd been alone for so long, running and hiding and terrified of everything. But now having someone else care, even a little bit, feels like a lifeline.
"Thank you," I whispered. "You don't have to..."
"Shh." She squeezed my hand. "We take care of each other, yes? Now eat. Then you clean tables. Light work only...I don't want you on your feet too much."
I nodded and forced down a cracker, my mind already racing ahead to the future I was trying to build.
A baby. I am going to have a baby.
Viktor's baby, though he'd never know.
My hand rested on my stomach as I eat, a protective gesture that is slowly becoming a habit. In there, somewhere, a tiny life is growing. Half me, half the man who'd destroyed me.
But this baby would be nothing like Viktor. I'd make sure of it.
This baby would know love, stability and safety. Everything I could give them, even if I had to do it alone.
Even if it meant hiding for the rest of my life. I will do it.
- Writer
