☾Chapter Five☽

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(Edited 6/1/15)

Vladimira's P.O.V

When I had finally mustered up enough courage to call Titus, it had been exactly one week since I had taken the pregnancy test, making me approximately seven weeks pregnant.

Sighing, I pick up my phone and release a harsh breath.

Titus had given me his number on that "faithful" night and now I had to tell him about the consequences of our actions.

I close the bathroom door behind me before locking it. If my father hears this conversation, he'll be even more suspicious.

I type in Titus's number without hurry, completely dreading when he picks up.

When I finally push dial, my legs are shaking and I feel as if I'm going to throw up.

I find myself placing a hand on my stomach, a habit that I've developed over the past week.

Suddenly, the line connected and I'm met by Titus's harsh voice.

"What the hell do you want, Vladimira?" Titus growls, making me wince.

I grip my small bump tighter as I search for words. "Do you think we could um... meet up somewhere?" I ask cautiously.

Titus releases a harsh laugh. "Just because I f*cked you doesn't mean we're best friends now, Vladimira."

I hold in my gasp, tears welling up in my eyes. "I just need to talk to you," I say defeatedly.

The line is quiet for what seems like an hour before Titus replies.

"There's a quaint little cafe right on the borders of our lands. Nobody should suspect a thing," Titus says lower this time.

I smile, my hand dropping from my stomach. "Okay, I'll meet you there in an hour."

Titus gives a hum of approval before hanging up.

I look down at my stomach before patting it.

"I'll never love you, and I don't want you to grow up in a negative environment. You have to be aborted," I whisper, almost on the verge of tears.

A knock on my bedroom door jolts me out of my thoughts. I quickly walk out of my bathroom before opening the door.

My father's tall figures stares down at me, a worried expression of his face.

"Mira, I'm worried about you, you've been acting strange lately. What's wrong?" He says softly.

It took me by surprise, he was always so demanding of me, demanding me to be strong. Now that I see him like this, I notice just how concerned he is for me.

"Nothing, it isn't important," I say before turning around. My father follows me into my room, watching me gather my clothes so I can take a bath.

"Why are you lying?" My father growls out. I fiddle with the hem of my shirt, tempted to place my hand on my stomach.

Shrugging, I grab my clothes and head to the bathroom. My father stops me by placing his hands on my shoulders, his blue eyes staring into my own.

"You can tell me anything, Vladimira, I don't want you to think that you can't."

I shake his hands off my shoulders. "I can't tell you just yet," I say in frustration. My father frowns unhappily. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take a bath."

My father doesn't move, he just narrows his eyes on me.

He doesn't like being kept in the dark, nor does he like to be told what to do.

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