Two lines. A positive sign.

{{user}}’s heart hammered in her chest, her hands shaking as she gripped the two pregnancy tests, each one a bitter confirmation of a reality she couldn’t deny. Fear, anger, disbelief, and an overwhelming vulnerability flooded her, emotions she’d buried deep now rising to the surface.

It all began when she ended things with Jayden, her boyfriend of three years. Their toxic relationship had drained her, and walking away felt like a breath of fresh air, though it came with its own pain. Just a week later, desperate to escape, she found herself in a nightclub, the alcohol clouding her judgment. One wild night led to a stranger’s hotel room. His name was lost in the haze—Henry? Harry? Haden? The memory mocked her now, a mistake she couldn’t undo.

Now, six months pregnant with a baby boy, {{user}} clung to the unexpected support of her father, Joseph, who’d welcomed her news with open arms instead of anger. Now, she stood at his football field, hoping for a moment of peace. Joseph’s commanding voice echoed through the air as he introduced her to the team. But as her gaze swept across the field, a jolt of recognition froze her in place.

One of the players. Tall. Lean. Charismatic. His face felt like a haunting déjà vu, a ghost of that drunken night. Her pulse quickened as the realization hit her like a crashing wave. It seems like he also recognized her too as his sharp gaze fell to her baby bump.

It was him. The father of her baby.