Days blurred into weeks.
I felt like I was living in a pit of hell whenever Helga was around. Lurking like a flirty devil as if she truly belonged here. As if she was the legal daughter and I was the nuisance.
That afternoon, my gut told me something was wrong the moment I stepped into my room. The curtains were drawn just enough to let in a narrow slash of sunlight. My bag wasn’t where I’d left it, and the drawer where I kept my toiletries hung open like a gaping wound.
Helga had been here. I didn’t need proof, because her perfume—sweet and sharp, like flowers that had been forced to diffuse in every corner of the room. I sifted through my things, pulse thudding in my ears.
Clothes were rumpled. Books out of order. And there, lying neatly atop my folded cardigan, was the empty box from my pregnancy test. The kit was gone! A cold weight settled in my stomach especially when I noticed the copy of my sonogram strewn on the carpeted floor. The bitch knew my little secret and I hated her more.
I bolted out of the room and found her lounging in the sunroom balcony, drinking her avocado smoothie. “Helga,” I called and she slowly turned to me.
“Yes, sister?”
“Give it back,” I said in seethed breath.
Her arms crossed as she replied, “No, Mia. Finders, keepers.”
“If anyone knows about my—”
“Don’t fret, Nick won't find out your baby is his.” She said before walking out.
Later that evening, Mom requested us to have dinner together. Said we have to bond as a knit-tight family. And when she said family—Nick should not be left behind.
My parents sat stiffly at the head of the table, my mother pale but determined to keep her seat. Nick sat across from me, scrolling on his phone, and Helga had a smirk tucked behind her polite smile.
We ate in silence but the food was bland. I couldn’t appreciate it no matter how hard I tried. Every movement, every sound was like a slow execution to death.
Halfway through the meal, my mother set her fork down and started a topic. “I’m glad you made it tonight, Nick,” she softly said, casting a warm smile.
“Well, Helga convinced me to come over. Said she’s telling something urgent and important,” Nick explained before glancing at Helga.
She met his eyes and yelped. “Of course. I have some good news!” She let out a soft, demure laugh that almost made my eyes roll.
“Tell us,” my father urged in a flat tone.
“I’m pregnant,” Helga bluntly said, putting the test kit on the table, as her gaze slid to mine. “Nick and I—well, it happened sooner than we thought.”
My mother’s fork clattered to her plate. My father stared at Helga like she’d sprouted horns. I felt like it shrunk into a small box as I looked at the smeared lipstick on a particular part of the kit.
I took the test in the airport's bathroom back then. I was too excited and nervous that I bit it's corner while looking at myself in the mirror. I was rattled. Now I know why she stole my kit!
But Helga wasn’t finished. She tilted her head, feigning concern. “Of course… pregnancies is such a tricky thing. You never really know who the father is until you check.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Isn’t it, Mia?”
A flush of heat shot up my neck. Nick’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t defend me.
Helga leaned closer to him, her voice soft but carrying venom. “I think it’s time you signed those divorce papers, Nick. For everyone’s sake. Especially… for the kids.”
Plural. She’d done it on purpose. And then Nick nodded and said, “You’re right. Let’s not prolong the agony and settle this once and for all.”
“Good. Then we can all move forward now. What do you say, Mia?”
I didn't answer. And when Nick finally looked at me, his eyes were empty. Not even empathy nor pity remained.
