Aliyah's POV
The storm had passed, but inside me another storm raged—louder, fiercer, more destructive than anything outside that tent could ever conjure. I sat there, pretending everything was normal, pretending my heart wasn't racing like it wanted to claw out of my chest. I smiled when Asher looked at me. I even forced a small laugh when he made some offhand remark about how we'd have to patch the tent later.
But inside, I was shattering.
Pregnant. With Asher Moretti's child.
The words throbbed in my head like a cruel drumbeat. How? How could this be happening to me? Out of all the people in the world… Why him?
I swallowed hard, praying Asher couldn't read me. He had this unnerving way of looking straight through me, like his eyes could peel away my layers until I was bare and exposed. I tried to keep my voice steady whenever I spoke, tried to appear relaxed, but I could see the slight narrowing of his eyes. He knew something was off. He always knew.
When the skies finally cleared, the rain reduced to faint trickles against the canvas, we packed in silence. My fingers shook as I folded my blanket. Asher watched me, too intently, but said nothing. Maybe he thought I'd eventually spill whatever was eating me alive. But I didn't. I couldn't.
We stepped out into the damp forest, the air heavy with petrichor. Asher gave me one last look, his jaw tightening like he wanted to ask—but then he turned away, heading toward his bike.
"Take care of yourself," he said flatly, without turning back.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. If only you knew, Asher…
We went our separate ways.
***
By the time I reached home, the weight of the secret threatened to crush me. My boots squelched against the gravel path, my chest tight with panic. I had rehearsed a dozen lies in my head, but they all sounded weak.
Papa was waiting at the door. His hands were folded across his chest, his brows knitted deep. The moment his eyes landed on me, worry shadowed his face.
"Aliyah," he said, his voice sharp but trembling. "Where have you been? Do you know how long I've been pacing this house like a madman?"
I froze at the threshold, my breath catching. "Papa… I just—"
"You just what?" His voice rose. "You disappear after the storm hits, you come back looking pale as death, and you expect me not to worry? Talk to me, Aliyah!"
His words sliced into me. I wanted to collapse into his arms, to confess everything, but my tongue refused to move. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. I couldn't let him know. Not now. Not ever.
"I'm fine, Papa," I whispered, forcing a weak smile.
"Fine?" he snapped, stepping closer. His hands trembled as he grabbed my shoulders. "Do you think I don't see it? Something's wrong with you. Tell me, Aliyah. Please."
I shook my head violently. "It's nothing, I swear. I just… needed air. Going back to racing after so long—it isn't easy. My head's a mess, but that's all."
His gaze softened for a second, but suspicion lingered. "You're hiding something. Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying!" My voice cracked, louder than I intended. I jerked away from his hold, clutching my bag tightly against me like a shield. "I just needed time to think. That's all."
He stared at me, his jaw tightening, his eyes full of pain. "Aliyah…" he whispered, "you know you can tell me anything. I've stood by you through everything. Don't shut me out."
My throat burned with unshed tears. I wanted to scream the truth, to beg him to protect me like he always had. But the words lodged in my chest, suffocating me.
"I'm okay," I said again, softer this time, almost pleading. "Please, Papa. Just… trust me."
For a long moment, silence stretched between us, broken only by the faint dripping of rain outside. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging as if the fight drained out of him.
"Alright," he muttered. "If you say you're fine, I'll believe you. But, Aliyah, remember this—you don't carry burdens alone. Not while I'm alive."
I forced a nod, blinking rapidly to keep my tears from falling.
Later, in the solitude of my room, the dam broke.
I collapsed onto the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest as sobs wracked through me. My body shook violently, and I pressed my face into the pillow to muffle the sounds.
Pregnant. Pregnant with Asher's child.
I couldn't even say it aloud. The reality of it made me sick. My hands trembled as they drifted to my stomach. Barely anything had changed yet, but I knew. Deep inside, I knew.
"What am I supposed to do?" I whispered into the darkness.
Papa couldn't know. The shame, the disappointment—it would break him. And Asher… I couldn't let him know either. What would he do? Demand control? Treat me like some responsibility he never wanted? No. I wouldn't give him that power over me.
The tears blurred my vision, dripping onto the sheets. I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms.
"I'll handle this," I told myself, my voice trembling but firming with every word. "I'll handle it on my own. No one has to know. Not Papa. Not Asher. No one."
It felt like signing a pact with my own blood. Painful. Final.
I sat up, wiping my face with trembling hands. The mirror across the room reflected a broken girl, eyes swollen and haunted. But behind that, a flicker of something else. Resolve.
If this was my fate, then I'd bear it. Alone. I'd hide this child from the world, raise it with my own hands, prove that I didn't need anyone—not Asher, not even Papa—to define my strength.
The decision tore me apart, but in the wreckage of my heart, I found a strange, fierce determination.
"I'll do it," I whispered, pressing a trembling hand against my stomach. "I'll protect you. No matter what."
The room echoed with silence, except for the faint beat of my heart—steady, defiant, broken yet unyielding.
And so, in the dead of night, I chose my secret.