Emma's phone buzzed barely five minutes after she had sent the text to Michael. Her heart pounded as she stared at the screen. Michael Calling.
A part of her was relieved that he had responded so quickly. Another part dreaded what he had to say. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and swiped to answer.
"Hello?"
Laughter greeted her from the other end of the line. Not a warm, comforting laugh. No. This was the kind of laughter that made her stomach churn. The kind that dripped with amusement at her expense.
"Emma, Emma," Michael drawled, still chuckling. "Why do you think you're so smart?"
Her fingers tightened around the phone. "What are you talking about?"
"This little game you're playing," he said smoothly. "You really thought you could pin a baby on me?"
Emma's face burned. "It's not a game, Michael. I'm pregnant, and I just needed to know if…"
"If I could be the father?" he cut in. "Let me save you some time. I can't be. Impossible."
Her heart clenched. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I have three kids already, Emma. And after the third one, I got a vasectomy. No more kids for me. Ever."
Emma felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. A vasectomy? She felt stupid and defeated immediately.
Michael sighed, his voice turning less amused and more direct. "Look, I get it. You're scared, and you're trying to figure things out. But I suggest you find out who the real father is instead of wasting time. And Emma..."
She held her breath.
"Stop sleeping around. It's not a good look."
Click.
The line went dead.
Emma stared at the screen, her vision blurring with unshed tears. Her pride felt like it had been stomped into the dirt. Stop sleeping around. The words echoed in her mind, each syllable stabbing into her chest.
Her hands trembled as she set the phone down on the nightstand. Doubt began to creep into her heart. Maybe Alex and Michael were right. Maybe she was just reckless, foolish. Maybe she was trying to escape responsibility by hoping one of these men would step up and make her life easier.
Maybe she really was just another statistic.
Emma buried her face in her hands. What am I even doing?
Her plan had been simple: Find the most willing candidate and let him believe he was the father. That way, she wouldn't have to do this alone. But now? Now she was sitting on the edge of her bed, drowning in the reality that she had no idea who the father was, and worse, no one she had been with seemed to care.
Her stomach twisted. A terrible, suffocating thought slithered into her mind, What if I just got rid of it?
The idea had danced around the edges of her thoughts before, but she had pushed it away. I'm keeping this baby, she had told Ava. But now, with Michael's cruel words still ringing in her ears, the doubt was louder than ever.
She thought about the prophetess from the candy store, the eerie certainty in her voice when she had warned Emma not to abort the child she was going to conceive. When she realized she was pregnant, it had felt like a divine sign. But now? Now it just felt like an illusion of hope she had clung to in a moment of panic.
What if she was wrong?
What if keeping this baby is going to be the biggest mistake of her life?
A knock at the door made her jolt. "Emma?"
It was Ava.
Emma swiped at her cheeks and cleared her throat. "Yeah?"
The door opened, and Ava stepped inside. One look at Emma's face and she sighed. "Michael?"
Emma nodded, unable to trust her voice.
Ava sat beside her on the bed and pulled her into a side hug. "I take it he wasn't exactly thrilled?"
Emma let out a humorless laugh. "He laughed at me. Told me he had a vasectomy and that I needed to stop sleeping around."
Ava tensed. "oh no"
Emma exhaled shakily. "I don't know what to do, Ava. Maybe... maybe I should just—"
Ava pulled away slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Don't say it."
Emma hesitated. "What if the prophetess was wrong? What if this isn't some divine plan? What if I'm just ruining my life?"
Ava studied her for a moment before speaking. "Emma, you can't let a two deadbeats make this decision for you.. you have three more options, above average"
Emma bit her lip, staring at the floor. "But I don't even know if I can do this. I don't even know if I want to."
Ava took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's be real. This is a mess. It's not going to be easy, and yeah, maybe it wasn't supposed to happen this way. But it did. And that means you have a choice to make, one that is yours and yours alone."
Emma swallowed hard. "But what if I am making the wrong choice?"
Ava squeezed her hand. "Then you live with it. But don't make a decision based on fear or shame. You're not the first woman to try to pin a child on a qualified candidate. There's a possibility."
Emma sniffled, nodding slightly. She wished the answer was simple. She wished she could just wake up and have it all figured out. But life didn't work like that.
Ava gave her a small smile. "I won't tell you what to do. But I will say this—no matter what, I've got your back. You're not in this alone."
Emma let out a deep breath. "Thanks, Ava."
Ava grinned. "Anytime. Now, do you want ice cream? Because I feel like this is an ice cream kind of crisis."
Emma chuckled softly. "Ice cream sounds good."
As Ava got up to grab the ice cream from the fridge, Emma stared at her phone. There were still three names left on her list. Three more possibilities. Three more chances for things to go terribly wrong or miraculously right.
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
Ryan, she thought. Maybe he wouldn't care that much about not being the father, he's a busy business man.
Taking a deep breath, she began to type.