Chapter 02~ A Tough Decision

Chapter 02~ A Tough Decision

CLARA

I sat in the bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test in my hand. Positive.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. How could this have happened? I hadn’t… I couldn’t… It didn’t make any sense.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Clara? ” Lucaa’s voice came in.

“I don’t understand,” I called, my voice shaking.

She walked in and shut the door behind her, her face was pale. “I need to tell you something. And you’re not going to like it.”

I frowned. “What is it?”

She hesitated, running a hand through her hair. “The clinic… they made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” I repeated, feeling my stomach drop.

She nodded, guilt written all over her face. “They did the wrong surgery. You didn’t have an egg retrieval, Clara. You had a fertilization operation.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The words didn’t make sense. “What are you saying, Lucaa? That I… that I’m pregnant because of this mediacal incident?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

I stared at her, my heart pounding heavily in my chest and any second from now, it will be on the ground. “But… that’s impossible. I mean, how could they mix something like that up?”

Lucaa sighed. “That clinic was a mess. They weren’t following any proper procedures. I should’ve never taken you there. This is my fault.” She cursed.

I shook my head, trying to make sense of everything. “Does this mean… if they find out, do I have to give back the money? But the money’s already gone. My uncle took it.”

“You don’t have to give anything back,” Lucaa said firmly. “The clinic is gone. They shut it down already.”

“Gone?” I echoed.

“When I went back to confront them, the place was empty. No staff, no equipment, no records. Nothing.”

“So that’s it? They just disappeared? And I’m stuck with this… this mess?” I almost wanted to scream my heart out. I mean, I didn't work for this, nor did I ask for it. And suddenly, out of the blue I was having someone else's child!

Lucaa looked at me, I could clearly see the pain and guilt in her eyes. “I managed to grab one thing before they closed everything down.” She reached into her side pocket and pulled out a small, silver cross necklace.

“What’s that?” I asked, confused.

“It was in the donor’s file,” she said, handing it to me. “It’s the only thing I could get. The rest of the information is gone. The donor is completely anonymous.”

I stared at the necklace, the tiny cross glinting in the light. It felt cold and heavy in my hand, like the weight of everything I’d been through.

I didn’t say anything for a long time. My mind was spinning.

“Clara,” Lucaa said softly, “I know this is a nightmare. And I know it’s my fault for taking you to that clinic. If you want, We’ll go to the authorities. I’ll tell them everything. I’ll take the blame.”

“What?” I looked up at her, startled.

“I’ll go to court,” she continued. “If it comes to that, I’ll even give up my medical license. I’ll face prison if I have to.”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “You can’t do that.You worked so hard in med school to get this far. ”

“I have to,” she said. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for me.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat. Lucaa had always been there for me, always trying to help. And now she was willing to throw away her entire life for my sake?

“Lucaa,” I said, not sure if I could withstand her doing all that, “this isn’t your fault. You were just trying to help. I made the choice to go to that clinic.”

“But I was the one who introduced you to it,” she argued.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said firmly. “We can’t change what happened. We just… we have to figure out what to do next.”

Later that night, I sat alone in my room, the cross necklace was still in my hand. I couldn’t stop staring at it. It was the only connection I had to the person whose child I was carrying.

I thought about Aunt Maggie, about how she’d always told me to leave and live my life. I thought about the mess my family had made of everything, how they’d taken and taken from me until I had nothing left.

And now, I had a choice to make.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, my mind racing here and there. I hadn’t asked for this. I hadn’t planned for it. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to think of the life inside me as a mistake.

I thought about the baby. About the kind of life I could give them.

I stood up and walked out of my room, finding Lucaa still sitting in the kitchen. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with worry.

“I’ve made up my mind,” I said simply.

Her eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Yes. This is my choice. And I’m not going to let anyone take it from me.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of peace. My life might have been a mess, but this baby was mine no matter what way it may seem to have come. And I was going to do everything I could to protect them.

Lucaa spent the rest of the day with me. For some reasons best known to her, she didn't want to leave my side and I was very grateful for that. We sat in the dinning across from each other. She had just finished eating her fried rice, while I still had mine halfway eaten.

I could feel her gaze on me, like she was studying me or trying to check how I feel without having to ask me directly. My eyes were fixed at the cross necklace lying between us.

“Clara,” Lucaa said softly, breaking the silence. “I know this is a lot to take in. But if you decide you can’t go through with this… it’s not too late. You can still—”

“I’m not having an abortion,” I interrupted, knowing that was the next thing she'd say.

She nodded slowly. “I just want you to know it’s an option. If money’s the problem, you could sell that cross.”

I looked at her, surprised. “Sell it? I thought you said it belonged to the donor.”

She leaned back in her chair, her face tense. “That’s the thing. This isn’t just any cross, Clara. It’s… unique.”

“What do you mean?”

Lucaa hesitated, as if deciding whether to tell me the truth. Finally, she sighed. “There’s a tradition among certain mafia families. The cross represents loyalty, faith, and… power. I’m almost certain this belonged to someone connected to them or worse… one of them.”

I stared at the cross, my stomach twisting. “Are you saying the donor could be… mafia?”

“It’s possible,” she admitted. “The clinic closing so suddenly, the lack of records, it all points to something bigger. Maybe they wanted to cover their tracks.”

I picked up the cross, running my fingers over its smooth surface. It felt cold, heavy, like it was carrying the weight of a secret I wasn’t ready to uncover.

When I told Aunt Maggie everything, I expected her to be angry or horrified. Instead, she listened quietly with a calm expression.

When I finished, she reached for my hand and held it tightly.

“Clara,” she said, barely audible, like she was trying to get her voice heard, “this is God’s will.”

I blinked, taken aback. “God’s will? Aunt Maggie, this happened because of a mix-up at an illegal clinic. How can you call that God’s will?”

She smiled faintly. “Because sometimes, God works in ways we don’t understand. You’ve always wanted a family, haven’t you? Maybe this child is the family you’ve been looking for.”

Her words struck a nerve. I’d never admitted it out loud, but she was right. I’d always felt alone, even when I was surrounded by people. If Aunt Maggie died, I wouldn’t have anyone left.

“Do you really believe that?” I asked quietly.

She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “I do. And I think you’ll be a wonderful mother, Clara.”

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Aunt Maggie’s words kept replaying in my mind, mixing with Lucaa’s warnings about the donor.

If the donor was really part of the mafia, what would that mean for my baby? Would they be in danger? Would I?

But no matter how much I worried, one thing remained clear: this child wasn’t just a mistake or a mix-up. They were mine.

****

The next morning, I found Lucaa waiting for me in the kitchen. She looked like she hadn’t slept.

“Have you made a decision?” she asked.

I nodded. “I’m keeping the baby.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief, but her expression remained serious. “Clara, are you sure? This isn’t going to be easy. And if the donor’s connected to the mafia, there could be risks.”

“I don’t care,” I said firmly. “I’ve spent my whole life being dragged down by other people’s choices. This time, I’m choosing for myself. No matter who the donor is, this child is mine. And I’m going to give them the best life I can.”