Chapter 5 – Rumors and Judgment
Amara tried to return to normal life, but normality now felt fragile, unreal. The world outside her apartment carried on as usual, but she felt like a secret storm was swirling inside her, invisible yet impossible to ignore.
She avoided seeing friends, skipped social gatherings, and found herself brushing off casual calls. Lena texted incessantly: "Are you okay? You're acting strange…" Amara's fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to say. She finally replied: "I'm fine. Just… busy."
Even at work, whispers began to brush against her awareness. Nothing concrete, but a glance here, a muffled conversation there. She felt the judgment in the air, imagined it in the eyes of colleagues. The fear of discovery gnawed at her. If anyone knew the truth, would they believe her? Or would they brand her with suspicion and ridicule?
Her mother's call was the hardest. "Amara, darling, are you coming home this weekend?"
Amara's throat tightened. How could I tell her? She wouldn't understand…
"I… I'm not sure, Mom. I have a lot going on right now," she said, forcing calm into her voice.
Her mother's pause was almost tangible through the phone. "Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," Amara lied. "Really."
After the call, she sank into her couch, clutching her stomach. She hadn't told anyone the truth yet, and the weight of secrecy pressed heavily on her. The fear of judgment was relentless. People would never believe a virgin could be pregnant. They would call her crazy, reckless, or worse—dishonest.
By the weekend, the pressure had grown unbearable. Amara realized she couldn't hide forever. She needed guidance, advice, and maybe, if she was lucky, someone to understand.
Ethan's office was the first place she thought of. She called and explained her escalating stress, her fear of societal judgment, and the anxiety about being discovered. He listened, calm and attentive, without judgment.
"Amara," he said softly, "you can't control what others think or say. But you can control how you respond, and how you care for yourself and this life inside you. Let's focus on what's real—you, your health, and your child."
The conversation left her shaken but strangely empowered. Maybe she didn't need the world's approval—at least not yet. Maybe she just needed to survive the storm long enough to protect herself and the impossible life growing within her.
That night, Amara sat by the window, the city lights twinkling like distant stars. She touched her stomach, feeling a tiny flutter. Her impossible reality pulsed beneath her fingertips. Rumors, judgment, fear—they couldn't reach the small miracle inside her.
She whispered to herself, softly, defiantly:
"I don't care what they think. This is real. This is mine. And I will not let anyone take that away."
For the first time, she realized that courage wasn't the absence of fear—it was moving forward despite it.
And Amara knew she would need all the courage she could summon for the days, weeks, and months ahead.