Tatiana

Since they left the hotel that morning, Tatiana had tried to appear calm. She walked arm in arm with {{user}}, wearing a slightly tense smile, yet still trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.

“Don’t worry, love…” she said gently. “We realized it right when we woke up. I took the pill right away. I’ll even keep taking it for a few more days, just in case, okay?”

{{user}} didn’t seem to doubt her, and that brought her relief. His trust calmed her… or so she thought. But as the days passed, something inside Tatiana began to stir.

,Around the sixth day, while washing dishes after lunch, she brought her hand to her lower belly with a nervous laugh.*

“I swear, if I keep feeling like this, I’ll start thinking there’s something growing in there,” she murmured quietly to herself.

The idea was absurd. She had taken the pill. She had been careful. And yet, her body didn’t lie. Mornings brought dizziness, her appetite shifted in strange ways, and her breasts… her breasts ached like never before. But she tried to mask it with jokes, even around {{user}}.

“It must’ve been that weird pizza you ordered. I told you it was a bad idea,” she said, laughing—though her smile never reached her eyes.

But when the fourteenth day came, everything changed. That morning, while brushing her hair in front of the bathroom mirror, she caught a glimpse of her own face. Dark circles. Paler skin. An odd emptiness in her chest. And then she realized: her period hadn’t come.

The silence of the bathroom was her only witness as she slipped out of the house quietly, grabbing her purse clumsily and heading to the nearest pharmacy. She bought the test with trembling hands, greeting the cashier with a forced smile.

An hour later, Tatiana sat on the edge of the bathtub, the test in hand. Two lines.

Two.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“…No. No way…”

She stared at the small white device as if it were playing a cruel joke on her.

“I took the pill… I took it… I took it right after! And the days after that too! How is this…!?”

Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the tub, and for the first time in days, tears began to well up in her eyes.

“It’s not fair…”

She buried her face in her hands, the test still trembling between her fingers.

“What if it’s not his? What if…? No… I can’t…”

Fear began to creep slowly into her thoughts. She couldn’t deny it anymore. She couldn’t joke about it. Her body was speaking louder than her words. And even though she hadn’t said anything yet, something in her eyes, that morning, in front of the mirror… was no longer the same.

She remained seated on the cold bathroom floor, hugging her knees, sobbing quietly. Her crying was barely a whisper, but it was clear enough for {{user}} to hear it from the other room.

A contained anguish, soft... yet it pierced through the closed door like a dull echo of the inevitable.

The morning started quieter than usual.

{{user}} stood in front of the mirror, getting dressed with mechanical movements—like his body was going through the motions while his mind drifted somewhere far away. His shirt was perfectly pressed, his watch ticked steadily on his wrist, but the tension in his face was impossible to hide.

This wasn’t a regular morning. He was going to work, yes… but not out of routine. Today, work was just a backdrop. What really mattered would come after—when he faced the man on the other side of that office door: his boss, Benjamin Palmer.

Tatiana appeared at the doorway, dressed simply, but with the same quiet nervousness in her posture. She had gotten ready on her own, without him asking. She didn’t want him to go alone. She couldn’t let him face it alone.

"I'm ready," she said softly, her eyes dropping for a second before stepping closer to adjust the collar of his shirt with gentle fingers.

They didn’t exchange many words. They didn’t need to. The silence between them was heavy, but it was shared.

The drive to the Palmer building felt endless, even though it took less than thirty minutes. {{user}} kept his hands tight on the wheel, cold against the leather, while Tatiana stared out the window, her heart lodged somewhere in her throat.

When they arrived, they walked together to the main elevator. The building loomed high as always, its glass walls reflecting a clear blue sky that seemed oblivious to the weight they were carrying.

They rode in silence to the top floor—not where the regular offices were, but the penthouse. A space reserved for private meetings… and conversations that could change everything.

Outside the door, {{user}} paused. He took a deep breath. Tatiana squeezed his hand.

Then, with a quiet nod, he knocked.

Mr. Palmer’s voice came from inside, as calm and composed as always—completely unaware of the storm weighing down {{user}} and Tatiana.

“Come in.”

The door creaked slightly as it opened. The office was bathed in morning light, pouring in through the tall windows. Everything looked just as orderly as usual… except for the tension carried in by the two visitors.

Benjamin looked up the moment they stepped inside. His expression, steady at first, shifted in seconds. He was a perceptive man—it didn’t take more than a glance at their faces to realize something was wrong.

He didn’t ask anything right away. He simply gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk, polite but attentive, his gaze sharpening with quiet focus.

“Have a seat,” he said, his tone firm but kind.

Tatiana sat down gently, her hands resting in her lap, fingers nervously twisting together as if trying to find comfort in the motion. {{user}} took the seat beside her, silent, back straight, jaw clenched.

Benjamin folded his arms and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk without taking his eyes off them.

“You don’t need to say anything just yet… Take your time.”

Tatiana drew in a deep breath, searching for words. She knew it had to be her who started this conversation—and she would. But for now, she just gave a slight nod, as if gathering the strength.

Mr. Palmer didn’t push. He waited, patient and composed. There was no judgment in his eyes—only understanding. As if he already sensed the weight of what they were about to share.

And in that moment, the silence in the office wasn’t uncomfortable… it was necessary.

Tatiana swallowed hard. Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before slowly lifting to meet Mr. Palmer’s.

“I’m pregnant…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The silence thickened. Only the ticking of the wall clock seemed to continue, as if time itself had paused inside that office.

Benjamin blinked, clearly caught off guard. His expression wasn’t one of judgment—just honest disbelief.

“Pregnant?” he echoed, lowering his voice instinctively, as though he didn’t want the words to travel beyond those walls.

Tatiana gave a small nod, her fingers still trembling in her lap.

“I took the pill… right after we woke up that day. I kept taking it after too. I thought that would be enough.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I’ve never been pregnant before… never used emergency pills either. I just thought that’s what they were for… nothing more than that.”

Benjamin leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. He didn’t speak right away. He was trying to piece it all together.

“Emergency contraception… it can fail, yes, but it’s rare. Especially when taken quickly. It’s not common.”

Tatiana looked down again, her shoulders folding inward. “I know that now… but I didn’t then.”

Benjamin let out a long breath. He didn’t look angry. Not even disappointed. Just confused—like someone trying to make sense of how something so unlikely had managed to happen.

He glanced at {{user}}, still silent, jaw tight, then back to Tatiana.

“This isn’t something you can just undo… or ignore. But you’re not going to go through this alone.”

His voice was steady, but warm. And for the first time, some of the weight pressing on Tatiana’s chest seemed to ease, even if just a little.

Benjamin leaned forward again, his tone softer now, more personal.

“Let’s talk this through. Whatever you need—we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Benjamin stood up from his chair and walked over to the window, gazing outside for a moment, letting the silence settle over the room. The weight of the conversation was heavy. After a few seconds, he turned around and looked at them, his expression serious but understanding.

“I know this isn’t easy. But I want you both to really think about what I’m about to say. You still have time to decide what you want to do.”

Tatiana and {{user}} exchanged a tense look, unsure of how to respond.

“If you’re not ready… if you feel like this isn’t what you want… there are options. No one is going to judge you. You don’t have to carry something you’re not prepared for—no matter how hard that may be for all of us.”

Tatiana tightened her hands in her lap, trying to stay calm. The fact that Benjamin was being so open and compassionate offered her some comfort, even if it didn’t take away the uncertainty.

He paused, then sat back down at his desk, his gaze softening as he looked at them again.

“But I know this isn’t something you decide overnight. And… there’s something else I want to offer, if you find that this is too much for you right now.”

Tatiana raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

Benjamin sighed, a faint, almost nostalgic smile forming as he began to speak.

“My wife, Valentina… you already know, but I think it’s important to bring it up in this context.” He adjusted in his chair, his eyes drifting for a moment before continuing. “Valentina is infertile. Has been since she was very young. She was born with a rare condition—Rokitansky syndrome. It’s something we’ve lived with since the start of our relationship.”

Tatiana listened quietly, absorbing his words. She already knew, but hearing him speak of it with such quiet pain made her feel something shift inside her.

“We’ve accepted it. We’ve adapted. It hasn’t been easy, but we learned to live with it. Still… given what’s happening now, I want to offer something.”

Tatiana and {{user}} looked at him, anticipation in their eyes.

“If you decide you’re not ready to raise the baby, but you don’t want to terminate the pregnancy… Valentina and I would be willing to adopt.” Benjamin lowered his eyes for a moment, aware of the weight of what he was offering. “We wouldn’t do it because it’s an easy solution. We’d do it because we believe no one should go through this alone if they don’t have to. We could give the child a good life. It could be… a kind of surrogacy, but in a different way. One made with care and intention—for all of you.”

A long silence followed as Tatiana and {{user}} processed his words. Benjamin’s proposal was unexpected, but thoughtfully presented—and there was a deep, unmistakable sincerity in his voice.

Touched by his honesty, Tatiana took a deep breath. After a few seconds, her voice came out soft, a little shaky, but steady.

“This is… a lot to take in. I don’t know what to say, but… thank you. We’ll think about it. We really will. But I don’t think we can make a decision like this right away.”

Benjamin nodded, fully understanding the complexity of it all.

“I don’t expect an answer now. I just want you to know there’s an option. And that whatever you choose… you won’t be alone in this. Not ever.”

Tatiana lowered her gaze, processing every word. Her mind was racing, but the silence that filled the room after Benjamin’s proposal was louder than any thought. For a few seconds, no one said a word. Only the distant sound of city traffic through the window reminded them that time was still moving.

She swallowed hard and glanced sideways at {{user}}, as if searching his expression for something certain—something to ground her. But all she found was the same tension, the same mixture of doubt and weight in his eyes. And that made her tremble inside.

In a low voice, barely audible, she murmured:

“I don’t know what we should do…”

Her eyes met his. There was fear in hers, but something deeper too: a silent plea for answers, for clarity, for support. She was scared—not just of what was coming, but of what they might lose along the way if they made a decision without being united.

Finally, she took a deep breath. There were no tears, just that fragile yet brave gesture—like someone who knows that the inevitable is about to be faced.

“But I think… whatever we do… it has to be a decision we make together.”

And although no one said another word, those words lingered in the air—like a full stop marking the end of one chapter full of questions, and the beginning of another, where the final choice was yet to be written… together.