What are you doing here?
Larisa's pov
I let my phone ring, and the call ended. I knew he would call back almost immediately, and within a few seconds, my phone rang again. What should I say to him? Deep down, I felt furious, but I decided to answer the call.
"Hello..." For the first time we spoke, I chose not to use any endearing term.
"What's going on, Larisa?"
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It seemed like he thought he was talking to a clueless little girl.
"Hello, Larisa," he said when he didn't hear my voice. "You don't sound like yourself. What's happening? I'm confused. What did I do?"
"Who told Taylor that I'm pregnant?" I asked.
"I never told Taylor. In fact, we haven't spoken in the past four days. Why would I tell him when you didn't ask me to?"
"Dylan, please listen to me. Your reaction when I told you about my pregnancy made it clear that you told him. I don't want to argue. I answered your call so you would stop calling me. Please don't call me again." I ended the call. As soon as I hung up, tears started streaming down my face. Dylan was someone I loved deeply, and it was painful to realize that the person I loved was the one who hurt me. I laid my head on the bed and forced myself to sleep, but I couldn't sleep. I already knew what was going to happen. I knew in my heart that Taylor would want to reconcile with me because of this pregnancy. The more I thought about it, the stronger my resentment towards Dylan grew, and I immediately blocked his number. The pain Dylan caused me was even worse than what Taylor had inflicted on me all at once.
The next day, I was still in bed, having lost my job. My mom knocked on my door.
"Please come in," I said. After a few seconds, my mom opened the door and walked towards me, her gaze fixed on me.
"How was your night?" my mom asked.
"It was fine," I replied, but my voice betrayed the truth. It was evident that things weren't fine. It was already eight in the morning, and usually, by this time, I would have left for work. However, emotions had led me to voluntarily leave my job, and now I was unemployed.
My mom's innocent question triggered a wave of regret, and I couldn't help but lower my face. Her words seemed simple to her, but they hit me hard.
"I don't want to talk about that right now. My focus is on this pregnancy, and going back to Taylor is like returning to hell."
"You shouldn't say that. Who would want to hurt a pregnant woman with hurtful words? A sensible man would show kindness and compassion," she said, pausing to see if I would respond. When I remained silent, she added, "Breakfast is ready. Let's go and eat. Your baby needs nourishment." She gently took hold of my right hand and pulled me up, and I followed her. It felt as if I had lost my voice, and inside my head, countless thoughts were swirling. We sat in silence, and occasionally, my mom would glance at me while eating.
After breakfast, my mom said, "You need to take a bath." I felt demoralized and in need of guidance. Throughout this time, I hadn't uttered a word and simply followed my mom's instructions. I returned to my room and entered the bathroom to take a shower. As the water flowed, I stared at myself in the mirror, and I was looking at my belly, which appeared just as flat as usual with no visible signs of pregnancy.
It was still morning, around 10 a.m., when my phone rang. I was certain it wasn't Dylan since I had blocked his number. When I glanced at the screen, I saw that it was Taylor calling.
"Hello," I said softly.
"My darling, how is my baby?" His choice of words and the tone of his voice made it seem like I was obligated to be under his control. I remained silent, and he added, "I thought I was talking to someone."
"You were talking to your baby, and I assumed he or she responded," I replied sarcastically.
"Larisa, now that you're pregnant, you're not the woman we want to argue with. Can you please come home?"
"No..." I paused, and he assumed I was about to mention my trip.
"Before we end this call, there's no way I'll let you take my baby out of this country. You belong to me, and you will travel nowhere because you are the woman carrying my child."
I immediately disliked the tone of his voice again and firmly stated,
"I am the owner of myself.”
"But that doesn't mean you can take my baby away. We need to discuss this matter. Where can we meet so we can figure out what to do..."
"I am not coming to your house," I interrupted him abruptly and ended the call. When Taylor suggested that I come to his house, a wave of fear washed over me. I had spoken to Taylor in a way that I myself didn't expect, and in my wildest dreams, I had never imagined being so sarcastical. I threw my phone onto the bed, as if distancing myself from him. Then, I heard a notification sound from my phone, prompting me to take a step towards the bed to check who had messaged me.
"Dear Larisa, I want to feel our baby by rubbing your belly. Thanks for making me have the feeling of welcoming a child." I tossed my phone back onto the bed and walked to my mom's room to meet her.
Later that same day, my mom and I were in the kitchen when we heard a knock on the door.
"Are you expecting someone?" my mom asked.
"No, let me go and check who's there."
To my surprise, when I opened the door, it was none other than Dylan.
"What are you doing here?" I was astounded, and at the same time, I didn't want my mom to know that Taylor's twin brother had come to visit me at home. What could be the connection between us if my mom were to ask?
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