Chapter 5: Moved into Mr Jackson's Mansion

"Oh no!"

"Vivian."

"V."

"What's wrong?"

"Where’re my car keys?"

"Where’re my keys!"

My aunt exclaimed as she quickly searched for her car keys, confused. She cried out, her eyes wide with shock, she hurriedly lifted me into her car and rushed off to the hospital. She was filled with worry and concern as she drove as fast as she could, hoping we would arrive in time to get me the help I needed.

As she sped through the streets, she couldn't shake the feeling of panic biting at her stomach. She glanced at me lying in the back seat, her face strained with pain, and she felt a surge of determination to get me the medical attention I urgently required. With each passing moment, she prayed silently, hoping for a better and positive outcome.

Finally, we arrived at the hospital. My aunt quickly parked her car before rushing to help me out. She gently supported me as she hurried into the emergency room, where a team of medical professionals stood ready to assist me.

My aunt recalled what had happened, her voice trembling with anxiety, as they quickly got me settled into a hospital bed. She stood by my side, offering words of comfort and reassurance, silently hoping for the best possible outcome.

A few hours later, the doctor opened the emergency room, and requested that my aunt join him in his office. With a heavy heart, she made her way down the hospital corridor, her mind racing with worry for me.

Finally, reaching the doctor's office, she took a seat as he began to speak.

"Vivian is three months pregnant," the doctor gently explained, with compassion in his voice.

"What!"

"Three months what!"

“How did I not notice she was pregnant all this time?”

“Her stomach didn't indicate she was pregnant for a whole three months!”

My aunt stated, confused on how it was possible for me to be pregnant for three months without her noticing. She was stunned at what the doctor had said.

"Right now, she needs all the care and rest available to ensure the health of both herself and her baby," the doctor explained.

My aunt listened attentively, absorbing the gravity of the situation. She nodded, her concern intensifying, as the doctor outlined the steps she needed to take to provide the best possible care for me and my unborn child. With each word, she felt a mix of emotions : disappointment, concern, fear, and determination to do whatever it took to support me through this challenging time.

The doctor continued emphasizing the importance of monitoring me closely and following all medical advice to ensure a safe pregnancy. He offered reassurance that with proper care and attention, both myself and my child had a good chance of staying healthy.

She nodded, feeling a wave of responsibility wash over her. She vowed to do everything in her power to support me through my pregnancy journey, providing the love, care, and encouragement I needed during this uncertain time.

Leaving the doctor's office, she felt a renewed sense of determination. She knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but she was ready to stand by me in every step of the way, offering me unwavering support and love.

Finally, I was awake, and I could go back home. My aunt walked me gently to the car, requesting we go straight to the father of my child's apartment, before heading home.

Meanwhile, surrounded by the magnificent colorful estate, neighbors couldn't help but notice the loud sound of an old car's engine as it made its way down the winding driveway. Despite the noise, my aunt wasn't bothered, her attention completely focused on reaching Jerry's house as quickly as possible.

As we approached the impressive mansion, my aunt couldn't help but feel a grief of anxiety. She knew that confronting Jerry's father wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to do whatever it took to ensure I received the support I needed during my pregnancy.

Parking the car with a sigh of relief, she took a moment to gather her thoughts before stepping out onto the grand front balcony. With each determined step she took towards the imposing front door, she braced herself for the challenging conversation that lies ahead.

Knocking firmly on the door, she squared her shoulders, steeling herself for what lies beyond. With a deep breath, she waited for the door to be swung open.

Moments later, the door opened, revealing Jerry's father standing in the doorway, a look of surprise twinkling across his face.

"Vivian's aunt?" he whispered, his voice filled with curiosity. "What brings you here?"

Without missing a beat, my aunt dived into the reason for our visit, her words measured and determined. She explained my situation with a calm yet urgent tone. “My niece here is a few months pregnant, and your son, Jerry, is responsible,” my aunt declared, emphasizing the need for support and understanding during this challenging time.

“Shocked!”

Jerry's father listened attentively, his expression shifting from surprise to concern as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. As she finished speaking, there was a moment of silence before he nodded slowly, his voice softening with empathy.

"I had no idea," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Please, come in. Let's talk about how we can support Vivian through this."

Relieved by his response, we followed him in, grateful for the opportunity to discuss a plan of action. Despite the uncertainty that lies ahead, she felt a glimmer of hope knowing that we were not alone in facing this challenge.

“Jerry!”

“Jerry!”

“Come downstairs this minute!” Mr. Jackson screamed his son's name, ordering that he come downstairs.

Jerry, seeing me and my aunt at his place, gave me a bombastic side eye. “Yes Dad,” he responded calmly.

Pointing in my direction. “Vivian here is pregnant, and she said you’re responsible. What's your excuse?”

Glaring at me, giving me a mean look. “I'm not responsible for her pregnancy, Dad.”

“What!”

“How dare you deny it in front of our parents!”

“You shouldn't dare me!” I said angrily, as I stood up from where I was seated.

“Calm down V,” my aunt said, as she tried to make me sit back.

Feeling confused and disappointed. "Jerry, Are you sure you aren't responsible? I observed the closeness between you both, but I never knew it was more than just friendship. Are you very sure the pregnancy isn't yours?” His father asked again, trying to bring out the truth from his son's mouth.

“Yes Dad, I'm very sure,” Jerry replied to his father, not minding me and my aunt.

“I know Vivian, to be a very intelligent and responsible girl,” Mr. Jackson praised me. Jerry wasn't bothered by that. "Are you really sure you aren't responsible?" his father asked him again, but he repeatedly denied being responsible for my pregnancy.

For my intelligence and reliability, I found myself at the center of a swirling storm of denials. Despite Jerry's repeated pretense of innocence, his father couldn't shake off his suspicions.

In a solemn moment of decision-making, Mr. Jackson proposed a plan: I would live in his mansion until I gave birth, after childbirth, a DNA test would be conducted to ascertain the true paternity of my child.

Jerry, consumed by a mix of frustration and anger, grappling with conflicting emotions. He was filled with anger, where he was standing, he felt like he should just strangle me.

Meanwhile, my aunt, a silent observer amidst the whole conversation, found hope in the proposed plan. The prospect of sheltering me in such surroundings until the birth of my child provided a glimmer of hope in the situation. The assurance of financial security offered stability, easing the burden of uncertainty that had befall my family in recent times.

She thanked Mr. Jackson, as we both headed back home to get my belongings.

As Jerry attempted to move back to his room, his father's booming voice called him. Before he could escape, his father's authoritative call summoned him back to face an impending confrontation.

“After childbirth, and the child turns out to be yours, you will find yourself dealing with me!" his father's words echoed through the hallway, laden with frustration and warning.

Jerry paused, his heart sinking at the weight of his father's words. He knew too well the gravity of his father's warnings. It wasn't just about the pregnancy; it was about the expectations, the obligations, the unspoken rules that governed their family dynamic.

A few hours later, I returned to the grand mansion. My aunt personally drove me back in her old, worn-out car that seemed to groan with every turn of the wheel, as if begging for assistance.

Despite the vehicle's aging condition, I expressed my gratitude to my aunt. With a polite nod and a grateful smile, I bid her farewell before making my way indoors to the comforting embrace of the familiar surroundings.

As I stepped into the mansion, I appreciated Mr. Jackson for his kind gesture. I exchanged pleasantries with the household staff, who greeted me warmly, their familiar faces offering a sense of comfort and stability amidst the chaos on ground.

Calling his son Jerry. “Take her upstairs to her room,” Mr. Jackson ordered. Jerry, with anger in his face, did as his father said. I made my way to my room, feeling grateful to be accepted by Jerry's father.

“Creaking!”

The front door was opened. As I entered the room and headed straight to my bed, I felt a sudden grip around my neck. It was Jerry, his expression fierce as he held me tight.

"You need to know your place in this mansion," he warned, his voice filled with anger.

I struggled to free myself from him, my heart pounding with fear and frustration. I knew I had to tread carefully to avoid further confrontation.

As Jerry's grip loosened, I took a step back, my eyes zooming around the room nervously. I could feel the tension hanging heavy in the air. With a trembling voice, I assured Jerry that I had no intention of interfering in his affairs, my words filled with a mix of acceptance and submission.

As he released me, I hurriedly pulled back to the safety of my bed, my mind racing with thoughts.

As he attempted to approach me once more, his intentions now deviating towards romance, my instincts kicked in with a quick and forceful reaction.

“Smack!”

With a sharp and resounding sound, my hand made contact with his cheek, the unexpected slap echoed loudly in the room.

Feeling the sting of my slap, Jerry tripped backward, his pride wounded and his heart heavy with disbelief. He had expected a different response, perhaps a rejection, but my intense reaction caught him off guard.

As he glanced around, he noticed the curious stares of the housekeeper who had undoubtedly heard the sound from outside.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Don't you have chores to do?”

“Do you now spy on me?” he questioned the housekeeper continually, as he yelled at her. The housekeeper rushed out of the scene hurriedly, seeing Jerry was very angry.

Meanwhile, I stood firm, my eyes shining with determination, sending a clear message that my boundaries weren't to be crossed.

As Jerry advanced towards me, intent on grabbing me forcefully, my desperation surged. With a trembling voice, I cried out for help

"Dad!"

“Jerry….!”

My plea for help echoed through the mansion, carrying the weight of my fear and urgency, I ran downstairs, and Jerry followed me to defend himself.

With anger in Mr. Jackson's voice, he questioned what was wrong. “What’s wrong, my dear? What did Jerry do? Are you okay?” his father asked continuously, eager to know why I ran downstairs in such a hurry.

“He slapped me!” I stated.

Mr. Jackson's voice faded away, his expression shifting from concern to shock. His mind racing with a mix of emotions. “He did what?” He finally managed to say something, his voice laced with disbelief and anger.

“He slapped me, Sir.”

“He even….”