Chapter 5 "Flesh and Blood"

Arwena sat in the clinic's waiting area, her heart sinking with every passing moment. The air felt thick with uncertainty, and she couldn’t seem to quiet the whirlwind of thoughts clouding her mind. Just yesterday, she had been resolute—so sure about the decision she was about to make. She had convinced herself that ending the pregnancy was the only choice. But now, watching the women leaving the room with tear-streaked faces, the decision no longer seemed so clear. Each sob, each fragile step, planted doubt in her heart.

Fear for her future—and her baby—began to overwhelm her, and before she even realized it, a tear had slipped down her cheek. Instinctively, she placed a hand on her belly, feeling the life within her. But she was too afraid to truly consider the consequences of what she was about to do.

“Ms. Arwena Dela Torre?” The receptionist’s voice cut through her thoughts, but Arwena remained motionless, as though her very name being called was some kind of final summons she wasn’t prepared to answer. “Ms. Dela Torre...”

A second call pierced the air, but still, she didn’t respond. There was something deep within her—some primal force—that prevented her from stepping forward, something that told her she wasn’t ready to make this decision yet.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to will the fear and anxiety away. "I can’t do this," she muttered under her breath. “I can’t…”

Suddenly, she stood up, the impulse overwhelming her. She shook her head in disbelief, clutching at her heart as though she might suffocate under the weight of her own turmoil. Without another glance toward the room, she ran out of the clinic, tears streaming down her face. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she fled, not caring who witnessed her emotional breakdown. She collapsed onto the steps outside, unable to control the waves of guilt and regret crashing over her.

Her mind screamed at her. How could she even consider it? How could she think for a second that ending this pregnancy was the right thing to do? She had brought this baby into the world, and it was hers—her child, her responsibility. Yet, in that moment, the doubt and the fear had threatened to consume her.

"What kind of person am I?" Arwena whispered bitterly, as if the words might somehow exorcise the turmoil within her. "I was raised to fear God, to do what’s right. And yet here I am, almost making a choice I would regret for the rest of my life. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby," she whispered, rubbing her belly gently as her tears continued to fall. "I’m sorry. I’m such a bad mommy."

Back at the clinic, Archie was racing toward her. His heart was a mess of panic, each beat echoing the fear that had been gnawing at him ever since he learned what Arwena was considering. What if it was too late? What if she had gone through with it already, making a choice she couldn’t undo?

When he finally found the piece of paper with the clinic’s address scribbled on it, dread battled within him. He couldn’t lose her—not like this.

And then, when he saw her—sitting on the steps, face streaked with tears—his heart dropped into his stomach. His emotions flared in a swirl of anger, pity, and helplessness.

“Did you do it?” he asked softly, his voice cracking as it carried the weight of his fears.

Arwena didn’t even look at him. Her sobs were all-consuming, her body shaking with the force of her grief.

"How could you—" Archie’s anger flared, and his words became harsher, louder. “How could you do this to yourself, to your child?” But then, as he took in her broken form, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry anymore. His hands clenched into fists, and he turned away, fighting the urge to scream.

“Stop this drama, Arwena!” he snapped, his voice now firm as if trying to shake her out of her pain. “Isn’t this what you wanted? It’s done—it’s over! Your problem is gone. So get up, start fixing your life!”

Arwena lifted her head slowly as if the weight of his words had finally registered. Her tears fell faster, and her body trembled under the force of her sobs.

“Archie…” she whispered, her voice breaking as she looked up at him, a look of utter devastation in her eyes.

His heart softened. All the anger he had felt moments before melted away, leaving only the need to comfort her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to protect her from her own self-doubt and pain, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t find the right words.

“I’m sorry,” Arwena whispered again, bowing her head as her shoulders shook with sobs.

Archie closed his eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. He had to be strong for her. He couldn’t break down—not now, not when she needed him most.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, his voice gentle, barely steady. “You don’t owe me an apology, Arwena. But to your child… you owe him everything.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the sharp words feeling like daggers as they left his mouth. But they were the truth. And maybe, just maybe, the truth would cut through the chaos in her heart.

For a moment, it felt as if all hope was lost. He had tried so many times to make her see reason, to show her that there was a better way. But nothing had worked. Nothing had gotten through to her.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been so stubborn. I’m sorry I ignored your advice, and I’m sorry I fought with you every time you tried to help,” she said, her voice barely audible as she looked down at her hands.

A small, painful laugh escaped Archie’s lips. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re just realizing that now? After everything, Arwena?”

He sat down beside her, his presence steady as he silently offered her his support.

“I didn’t do it, Archie,” Arwena said, her voice barely a whisper. “I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.”

Archie’s eyes widened in shock and surprise. For a moment, he could hardly believe it. His heart began to race as he took in her words. Slowly, a grin spread across his face.

“The baby’s still here?” he asked, his voice laced with excitement, his hand instinctively going to her belly. “You didn’t lose him?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes filled with both relief and fear. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t be the one to take his life.”

Archie’s grin grew, and he pulled her into a tight hug. It wasn’t just a hug of comfort—it was one of hope, of new beginnings. “I’ll be here for you, Arwena. I’ll be this baby’s dad. I may not be Daddy Material, but I’m definitely Mommy Material,” he said, trying to lighten the mood with a joke, though his voice was filled with sincerity.

Arwena chuckled faintly, her tears beginning to slow. She leaned into his embrace, silently thankful for his unwavering support. Despite everything she had put him through, Archie hadn’t given up on her. He was still here, willing to step up as both a father figure and a friend.

“We’ll do this together,” he whispered, wiping away her last tear. “You’re not alone, Arwena. Not now, not ever.”