Chapter 4

Reluctantly, Clara rose from her bed, feeling a heavy weight settle on her chest as she followed her father and stepmother to the dining table. The evening felt distant, her mind still at the hospital, trapped between the quiet anxiety of what she’d learned and the appearance she wore for her family.

……

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on Clara’s room. She stirred in bed, the weight of the previous day’s events still hanging heavy in her mind. She had spent hours tossing and turning, her thoughts consumed by the shocking revelation at the hospital: pregnant? It seemed impossible, yet the test results were undeniable. As much as she wanted to deny it, the reality had settled in.

With a deep breath, Clara sat up and shook her head. She couldn’t let herself dwell on this any longer. She had to do something, find some answers. She quickly got dressed, her mind still in a haze, as she prepared to face yet another day. She had to get to the bottom of this mystery. She couldn’t bear the uncertainty any longer.

Downstairs, her father sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee, while her stepmother scrolled through her phone, her attention absorbed by whatever was on the screen. Clara greeted them both with a forced smile, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach. "Good morning, Dad. Good morning, Ma," she said, making her way towards the door.

Her father, ever the gentle soul, smiled up at her. "Good morning, my dear. Have a lovely day at work today," he said, his voice warm and kind.

Clara nodded, barely listening, as she hurried out the door, eager to get away from the house. Her stepmother didn’t look up from her phone, but her voice rang out sharply. "Go to work straight and come back straight!" she called after Clara, the familiar, controlling tone causing Clara to roll her eyes in silence. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t be bothered to argue this early in the morning. With one last glance over her shoulder, she stepped out into the cool air, heading toward town.

The public transport drive to the hospital was a blur. Clara’s mind raced with a thousand questions, all of them unanswered. She couldn’t make sense of the pregnancy news, couldn’t understand how this was even possible. She had never been with a man. Never. How could this be happening?

Arriving at the hospital, Clara made her way to the reception, trying to steady her nerves. She had called ahead and was ready to get some answers, to confirm whether the first doctor had made some kind of mistake. She was determined to leave with clarity, or at least some kind of explanation.

"Good morning, Doctor," she said, her voice shaky as she approached the office of the new doctor.

The doctor, a middle-aged man with a warm, reassuring smile, looked up from his desk. "Good morning, Miss," he replied. He gestured for her to take a seat. "What brings you in today?"

Clara sat down, her heart pounding. "I have a question, something I need to understand," she began. "Is it possible for a virgin to get pregnant?"

The doctor paused, his expression softening as he regarded her with curiosity. "Why do you ask, young lady?" he inquired gently.

Clara hesitated, glancing down at her hands as she explained. "I went to another hospital yesterday, and the doctor told me I’m one month pregnant. But... I don’t understand. I’ve never been with a man. I’m still a virgin. I don’t see how this is possible," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words out loud would somehow make them more real.

The doctor nodded, his face thoughtful. "Alright, Miss," he said after a moment. "First, let’s run a pregnancy test, just to confirm the results. Come with me."

Clara followed him into the examination room, her mind racing with a swirl of confusion and fear. How could this be happening? The thought of being pregnant, yet never having been with a man, was too much for her to grasp. She just needed to know the truth.

Hours later, the doctor returned with the results in hand, his face solemn. "Miss Clara, the results are the same. You are indeed one month pregnant," he said, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

Clara felt her knees weaken, and she sat down in the chair, her head spinning. "But... but how is this possible?" she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Can a woman really get pregnant without ever seeing a man? Let alone a woman like me, who is a virgin? This doesn’t make sense."

The doctor sat across from her, his expression serious as he studied her. He paused before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "Miss, I understand how hard this must be to accept, but there are rare instances, though extremely unlikely, where a woman can become pregnant even without direct intercourse. Sometimes, in very unusual circumstances, it’s possible for a woman to become pregnant through unconscious actions; like in cases where a woman might be taken advantage of while asleep or unaware," he explained, his voice gentle but firm.

Clara recoiled at the thought, a chill running down her spine. "That’s not possible," she said, her voice shaking. "How could that even happen? I go straight from work to home every day. I don’t... I don’t even leave the house unless I have to. I haven’t been anywhere where something like that could happen." She gripped the edge of the chair tightly, trying to make sense of the words, but it didn’t feel real. She couldn’t remember anything like that. There was nothing: no incident, no memory that could explain this.

The doctor nodded, his gaze compassionate but firm. "I understand. But sometimes, even the most cautious among us can find themselves in situations they never expected. If you’re sure nothing like that happened, it may just be that this is a mystery that requires more time to uncover. If you need further tests or advice regarding your pregnancy, I’m always here to help." His voice was reassuring, though Clara felt no comfort in his words.

Clara stood up, the weight of his statement hanging heavily in the air. "Thank you, Doctor," she murmured, still reeling from the shock. Without another word, she turned and left the room, her mind racing with more questions than answers.

As she walked out of the hospital, the world seemed to blur around her. The news was too much to process, too overwhelming. She had come here looking for answers, but all she had received was more confusion and fear. What was she supposed to do now? How could this be happening to her? And more importantly; how could she ever make sense of it all?

….

The room was thick with tension as Nathaniel sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He hadn’t heard from the surrogate in over a month, and the silence was gnawing at him. His mother’s discontent had become a constant presence in his life, and today, it seemed, she could no longer hold her frustration in.

The door to his room creaked open, and his mother, a woman of undeniable grace but with an air of unrelenting determination, stepped inside. Her eyes, sharp and observant, immediately locked on to Nathaniel as she walked toward him. "Nathaniel," she began, her tone more demanding than usual, "It's been a month now, and we haven't heard anything from the surrogate. What's going on? Where is she? What’s wrong?"

Nathaniel sighed heavily, his mind already weary from the ongoing pressure. He looked up at her, his eyes weary but resolute. "I really don’t know, Mum," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "She has been paid handsomely, more than enough to make sure this goes smoothly. After the procedure at the hospital, I haven’t heard from her. No calls, no messages. Nothing."

His mother’s face tightened, her brow furrowing as she stood in front of him. She crossed her arms over her chest, exuding the aura of a woman who had been patient far too long. "That’s exactly why I wanted you to get married in the first place," she said, her voice rising in both anger and sorrow. "So I could have my grandson in a proper way. But no, you insist on not getting married. You refuse to be emotionally attached, refuse any relationship. Always talking about how you don’t want emotional entitlement."

Nathaniel clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin. He had heard all this before. It was the same argument, recycled again and again. He didn’t need to explain himself. He didn’t need to justify his life choices. "Mum," he interrupted sharply, standing up now, his tone cold and distant, "I’m not getting married, and I’ve told you that countless times. You knew how I felt about relationships. I made my choice. This isn’t up for discussion."

His mother was undeterred. She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of concern and frustration. "And now look at this. I suggested surrogacy so that I could have my grandson in peace. And yet, even that’s falling apart. No grandson, no surrogate, no nothing!" Her voice was now sharp, almost desperate. "I’ve done everything for you, Nathaniel. I just want to see my family grow, to see you settle down, and to have a legacy. But you just… you keep pushing me away. What am I supposed to do with all of this?"

Nathaniel’s heart hardened, and his tone grew more cutting. "Enough, Mum. Enough of this constant nagging. You can’t keep pressuring me to do something I don’t want. If you need a grandson so badly, fine," he said, his voice steady but harsh. "I’ll get you one. I’ll find another surrogate, someone I can actually trust. And this time, I’ll make sure I do a thorough background check. I won’t be left in the dark again."

His mother’s face softened, but her disappointment was clear. She stepped closer to him, her voice now pleading. "But why, Nathaniel? Why can’t you just settle down, get married like a normal man, and have children the right way? Why can’t you do this for me? For yourself?"