/-Dahlia-/

The silence that followed was deafening.

Their eyes were on me, waiting for me to make my decision.

I bit down on my lips hard as the tears rolled down. I understood them. Despite being rich and influential, it didn't excuse any poor behaviour from us. They had a reputation to protect.

But I couldn't bring myself to murder a child simply because it was an inconvenience.

“I can't…” I whispered. “I can't do it…”

Denise's smile immediately faded. Her lips parted slightly with disbelief and my mother mirrored her expression.

“What are you saying, Dahlia? Are you out of your mind?” My mother snapped. “Do you think this is a joke?”

“I know it's not a joke, mom. But I can't abort this baby. I have already disappointed myself once. I can't afford to do something…”

“Can you cut out the good girl out for once in your freaking life?” Denise snapped, irritated and angry. “If you get thrown out into the streets, do you really think you can survive on your own? With a baby at that too?”

I wouldn't.

Which was why I was really hoping I could apologize my way out of this. Convince them to let me keep the baby and maybe resume school after delivery.

I turned to my father, dropping to my knees. “Father, please. I know you are disappointed but please don't send me away. I am really sorry and I am ready to pay for my actions but please don't make me abort this baby.”

“I don't think you understood me,” he said coldly. “If you are determined to raise that bastard, it won't be under my roof.”

I stared up at him, my knees burning on the cold floor, but the ache in my chest was far worse.

“Dad…” I whispered, voice shaking. “Please, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Just… don’t make me choose between my family and my baby.”

“You already made your choice the moment you decided to ruin everything we built,” he said, his tone sharper than I’d ever heard it. “You think this is about you, Dahlia? About your feelings? We gave you everything. The best school. A future. And you threw it all away.”

My mother folded her arms tightly across her chest, as if hugging herself to keep from exploding. “You think the world will be kind to a pregnant high school dropout? You think colleges will still be sending you scholarships once this video circulates beyond the school?”

“I’ll figure something out,” I croaked.

“By doing what?” Denise snorted. “Braiding hair at gas stations? You don’t even know how to take care of yourself. And now you want to raise a baby? Wake up, Dahlia. You’re not strong. You’re spoiled. And without them…” she gestured to our parents “...you have nothing.”

“Enough, Denise,” Dad said, but he didn’t look at her. “Pack your things.”

My heart plummeted.

“What?”

“You have until morning,” he said stiffly. “After that, your mother and I don’t want to see you in this house.”

I couldn’t breathe. I looked at my mother, hoping she would say something but she didn't.

That was when Denise's true colours came out and she gave an ugly laugh.

I slapped her.

The sound cracked through the living room.

Her mouth hung open in disbelief, but I didn’t wait for a reaction. I stood, shaking, heart hammering in my ears.

“You got your wish,” I said hoarsely. “You’ve always wanted me gone. Well, here you go.”

My father didn't waste time retaliating the slap. “Don't you ever in your miserable life raise your filthy hands on my daughter again. Now get out before I say something I'll regret!”

Tears blurred my vision.

I turned on my heel and marched toward the closet. My vision blurred with tears, but my steps didn’t falter.

I packed in silence. Clothes. A few essentials. The two remaining pregnancy tests. I shoved everything into a duffel bag, hands trembling. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I had to leave before they made good on their promise to throw me out like trash.

When I came back down, the living room was empty. I didn’t even get a final word. Not a goodbye. Not even a look.

**************FIVE YEARS LATER***************

“Mommy! Mommy! Look what I drew!”

I smiled, turning away from the stove as my five-year-old daughter, Haven, came racing into the kitchen with a crayon-streaked piece of paper clutched in her tiny hands.

“What do we have here?” I asked, crouching to her level as she proudly handed it over.

“It’s us! See? That’s you, and that’s me, and that’s our house! And that…” she pointed to a squiggly blob with a smile, “is Mel, my best friend!”

I laughed, a real one, the kind that vibrated all the way through my ribs and pushed the pain of the past a little further back. “It’s beautiful, baby. I love it.”

She grinned and threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tight.

Five years.

Five long, messy, beautiful years since I walked out of that house with nothing but a duffel bag, two pregnancy tests, and a broken heart.

Five years since I was thrown to the wolves, and learned to raise one of my own.

After I left home, my father had all my accounts frozen, leaving me penniless. Williams never returned my calls and the one time I showed up at his house, the security wouldn't let me in.

All my friends suddenly wanted nothing to do with me. The only person who made an attempt to console me was Zac Leroy. Yes fat Zac.

He let me stay at his aunt's trailer home until one day, he was just gone. His aunt passed away and he had to leave the country to unite with his parents.

Everything was sold off by the woman's family and I was back in the streets once again, working five jobs a day to survive.

Until I got this crumbling apartment. I couldn't say my life was blissful but I was happy I could feed my child whenever she was hungry. It didn't matter if I had to starve in the process.

“Mommy, you're late again,” Haven said suddenly. “Your boss is going to scold you!”

I laughed, “Now aren't you smart? Lecturing me about being late when you are equally late for school!”

“I'm not. My fees haven't been paid yet and I don't like the other kids making fun of me when I get kicked out,” she said.

My heart clenched hard. I took a squat to her level.

“Don't worry, baby. Mommy is going to work very hard and make sure you don't have to get chased out ever again,” I assured her.

“Mommy is going to get fired if we don't get there on time,” she pointed and I laughed.

“Right! Of course.”

I packed everything into my purse and picked her up. I would have to ask my boss to let her stay with me today.

After locking up my apartment, I headed to the restaurant down town. When I got there, I found the place crowded and I was genuinely confused.

I spotted the manager, Mrs Heather, talking to some of the staff so I hurried over.

“Oh, Dahlia, you're here,” she didn't even smile like she usually would. “I'm afraid we have bad news.”

“Bad news?” I echoed.

“All the restaurants in this line have been sold out to some hot shot billionaire. The boss needed money and since he was offering a ridiculous amount for such a small place, she sold it out,” Mrs Heather said.

My chest fell. Why did this have to happen when my rent was due? I still had Haven's school fees to pay and this place was my highest paying job.

I wanted to burst into tears.

“Mommy…” Haven's big blue eyes stared sadly into mine. I forced a smile to reassure her that I was okay.

“What do we do now, manager? Most of us make earns meet from here. They can't just fire us!” Margie, my colleague, complained sadly.

“I’m afraid it is out of my hands, Mag. From what I heard, the new owner wants to renovate the place. We don't know if he's going to build a hotel or a five star restaurant. The construction workers will be here in two days, that's why the place is getting sealed off,” she explained.

“Can't we plead our case with him? I have nowhere else to go,” Charles asked. He was the only chef employed alongside me and his cooking skills were almost better than mine. “Who is he anyway? Is there a way we can reach him?”

Mrs Heather sighed. “I highly doubt that. Like I said, he is a big shot. A billionaire. You can't just see him because you want to.”

“And this billionaire is?” Margie pushed.

“Zac Leroy.”

My heart stopped. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Don't you know him? Zac Leroy, the star soccer player?”

Soccer?

My head was spinning.

As in fat Zac, a billionaire soccer player? How? Or was I mistaken?

DAHLIA

Mrs Heather and the other sales persons kept having a back and forth conversation but my mind was in a daze. Their voices sounded very far away.

What would I do? How was I going to feed my child? Truly, as my parents had said, being a dropout was so hard.

No organization would take me. I didn't even complete my high school so securing even the lowest job was a far-fetched dream.

"Mommy, please stop crying." Haven's tiny quivering voice had me blinking back tears I didn't know had fallen furiously.

She never failed to produce tears if she saw me crying. And seeing my daughter cry because of me hurt me more than the situation that brought me to tears.

"It's okay, baby. We'll be fine." I stooped to her level and gave her a tight hug, gaining a little hope from that warm embrace.

It didn't matter what I was going through, I didn't regret carrying her to term.

"Let's go home and..."

The sound of a vehicle cut off the rest of my words. I rose to my feet, holding my daughter's small hand, my eyes raising towards the direction of the vehicle.

It was more or less a convoy.

"He's here." Mrs Heather announced.

My stomach clenched as I blinked my disbelief. This was Zac's convoy? Back then, Zac wasn't just bullied for his chubby frame, he was also bullied for not having rich parents like the rest of us.

He was brilliant and had been on scholarship. How...when? I watched, my emotions in a frenzy, as one of the car doors of the vehicles open and one guy in black suit stepped out to open the door of the backseat.

Gasps were heard as soon as the tall, athletic figure stepped out.

Before I could get a good glimpse, his bodyguards were stopping him from being engulfed by people. People who were fans from the look of the bizarre attitudes.

"Zac Leroy! I love watching you play."

"You were a beast in that last match!"

"Please sign my shirt, you're my favorite player!"

Excited voices overlapped and I watched as he smiled, acknowledging his fans. Signing here, taking pictures with them there.

While his attention was focused on the crowd, I took my time to assess him. He'd lost all that fat to a muscly build.

Gone was the boyish chubby face, replaced by a manly, slim face, accentuated by a well chiseled jaw and pointed nose.

I could only see his side profile. He no longer wore his hair in a ruffled manner. It was styled in a distinguished pattern with few wild strands straying to his face...

"Mommy, who is he?" Haven was curious, probably wanted to know why everyone was crowding him.

"He..." I didn't know what to respond. Should I say he used to be a friend back in high school? Though I could hardly call him a friend.

I wasn't really close to him.

Suddenly, he turned and met my gaze. He still possessed those beautiful green eyes I'd always admired.

His lips spread into a genuine smile. He made his way to me, despite his fans wanting more of his attention.

His bodyguards made it possible, though not easy, for him to walk up to me.

"Long time, no see Dahlia." His voice had changed.

It no longer held the cutesy, meek tone it used to.

It was thick and rich and the way he pronounced my name reminded me of honey dripping on hot, delicious pancakes.

I cleared my throat, suddenly embarrassed of where my thoughts had run to. "H-hi."

"Hello, mister." Haven extended her hand, beaming confidently at him, her head raised to take a proper look at his imposing height.

A curious smile brightened his face as he accepted her small hand in his and shook gently. "Hello, beautiful miss."

He stooped to her level so she wouldn't have to keep straining her neck.

Haven giggled at the compliment, not one hair shy. "Thank you. Do you know my mommy? Are you friends? Why are you looking at each other that way? Are you the Zac Leroy that woman was talking about? Is it true you bought mommy's job? Can you get mommy another one? Who..."

"Haven." I was both flustered and embarrassed.

I was always proud of my daughter and her genius mind but sometimes it came with a mouth without filter.

"What, mommy? You lost..."

"It's nice seeing you again, Zac. I'm happy for you but I need to get going." I quickly grabbed my daughter's wrist, ready to bolt out of there before she told Zac Leroy our 'as poor as a church mouse' story in one breath.

"Wait, Dahlia." He gently pulled me back, his eyes understanding and compassionate. "I'd like to take you out for..." He checked the diamond-cut wristwatch adorning his right arm. "... it's past eleven, so it's brunch. I mean I can't see you for the first time in years and you'll just walk away. Please, have brunch with me?"

It wasn't his words that were mesmerizing me, it was this new found confidence that had me still rooted to the spot.

Confidence without arrogance.

But I was ready to turn him down politely. "Thank you, but..."

"Thank you for inviting my mommy and me, but before we agree, what are you buying me? I don't like apple juice or pork. I want hot pancakes, berries, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, banana smoothie and waffles." She rattled off in one breath, leaving Zac Leroy quite speechless.

But that quickly changed into a hearty laugh. "All of that food in your tummy?"

"Mommy calls me a foodie all the time." She grinned.

I was supposed to sternly stop her from her child-like shenanigans but I didn't have the heart to, not when she looked so relaxed and proud of herself. "And a proud one." I added, a bit embarrassed of what Zac would think of us. Of me, as a mother, and my ability to feed my daughter proper meals.

"I don't mind buying you all of that if mommy says yes." He shifted his gaze to mine, silently asking. Pleading.

My stomach rumbled but thankfully, he didn't hear. A reminder I hadn't eaten anything proper since last night.

I nodded. "Okay."

"Great." His smile lit up his face as he led us to his waiting convoy.

Eyes followed us; Mrs. Heather's and the other salespersons. Paparazzi wouldn't stop clicking cameras in our faces and fans kept taking pictures.

Haven did something hilarious; she posed and waved at the cameras, yelling in her little voice. "My mommy is friends with Zac Leroy, the rich guy!"

Hearing Haven's free, sweet laughter had me in the whirlpool of two emotions — happy and sad.

Happy that she finally had the opportunity to have the luxury other kids had. The kind I'd had growing up. I was sad because I wasn't the one giving it to her.

Zac was.

After breakfast, he insisted on taking Haven to an amusement park for the rich kids after she'd made mention, once again, with her big, smart mouth, how much she wanted to go play in her dream park.

"She seems happy." Zac commented beside me, watching her swing delightfully on a pair of swing set with other kids.

"Thank you." My tone was quiet, though filled with gratitude.

"So about her? How come? What happened after I left?" He asked.

I met his gaze, not knowing if I should say anything. But those green eyes. I sighed and looked away, not wanting to be tricked by my emotions just by staring into his eyes. "Remember that day you saw me in school early?"

"That morning? Yes, I remember." He nodded.

"I'd just discovered I was pregnant for Will..." My voice trailed off, memories swamping me and making my vision blurry.

"He rejected the pregnancy?" He guessed.

Unable to form words at that point, I merely nodded. He waited until I was composed enough to talk and talk I did.

"You didn't see it on the news?" I asked, because it had been sent to everyone back in highschool.

Narrated all that had happened to him. The betrayal. Cheating with my enemy — Zoey Hushton. Making mockery of me. My family throwing me out and cancelling my name from the inheritance. Pregnancy and birthing Haven with no help.

I was careful not to mention my intense struggles to ensure a good education, feeding and keeping a roof over her head, plus clothes on my daughter's back.

I didn't want to come off as desperate, even though, I honestly was.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that alone." And he really meant every word. I heard the sincerity in his voice.

"It's okay. I mean, life happens." I gave a care-less shrug, though I cared. I cared so much about what people I'd loved and trusted had turned their backs on me so fast I didn't have time to process it had done to me.

A hand came on my shoulder. Nothing suggestive, it was warm and comforting. "I'm sorry, Dahlia. I had no idea you were part of the workers."

"Of course, how could you have known? Don't worry. I can always find other jobs." That last statement was a lie.

I couldn't always find other jobs. People barely hired high school dropouts. The few who did, never paid well.

I worked three jobs and still struggled to keep my daughter in school, put food on her table, clothes on her back and roof over her head.

"I can help you on that aspect." He offered kindly.

"No." My rejection was sharp. I cleared my throat, gathering my emotions and putting them under wraps. "Thank you, but no."

It was already embarrassing that he had to feed me what was probably my meal for the whole day and give my daughter what I couldn't afford to give her.

I couldn't let myself or my daughter get used to help. I'd forgotten how it felt to depend on others and I didn't want to because if there was anything life had taught me; it was to never be too dependent on others.

"Come on, Dahlia. Let me help for old times sake." He reasoned.

I shook my head, ready to be stubborn about it. "I'm good, Zac. My daughter and me are good. We've come this far on our own, we do not need help. But thank you for offering though. That was thoughtful of you."

Silence engulfed us, though I felt his gaze on me. I willed myself not to turn my head in his direction. I paid forced attention to Haven laughing and chatting happily with another girl dressed in a very pretty dress.

Without meaning to, I compared the noticeable contrast of my daughter's old thrift dress to the other little girl's flowery, play clothes and beautiful shoes.

That little girl used to be me. My daughter deserved the life I once had as a child. It was a tough pill to swallow knowing my daughter would probably never have the privileged childhood I had.

"So what next? Do you have any other plans? Any other job?" His genuine concern didn't go unnoticed.

"Yes." I gave a small nod.

"Oh. And it pays well, I suppose?"

Another shrug and a hard swallow while I lied through my teeth. "Yeah, it does."

"Alright."

Then he proceeded to call out to Haven who grinned at him, waved and ran over to us.

"Are you having fun?" He inquired.

She nodded. "I'm thirsty. May I have a bowl of ice cream, please?" She looked at me expectantly.

Ice cream here would cost me an arm, I couldn't afford it. If I did, that would mean no dinner for her tonight and I couldn't possibly sacrifice her dinner for ice cream.

"Come, let's go get you some." He was already accepting her hand and walking away with her before I could reply.

"Don't you want one, mommy?"

Zac threw a look my way, the ghost of a smirk on the corner of his lips. He was waiting for me to turn down another offer. Dare I say he was even expecting it.

Well, I'd better not disappoint him. "No, baby."

But to my surprise, my daughter knitted her brows, looking thoughtful. "Let's go, Zac. Mommy's favorite is one scoop of lemon and two scoops of raspberry. Me, my favorite is chocolate but I feel like eating one scoop of strawberry and one scoop of blueberry."

Well, that was settled.

"What's your favorite ice cream?" I heard Haven ask him, while I followed quietly from behind.

"I'm not big on ice cream but if I must, I prefer coffee."

"Oh." Haven made a funny face that had Zac chuckling. Me too.

She didn't like coffee, hated the smell of them.

Soon, we had gotten our bowls of ice cream and were seated in an empty booth in a corner. I quietly enjoyed my bowl while Zac and Haven chatted eating theirs. More like Haven chatting Zac's ears off while he, obviously, enjoyed her bubbly presence.

"Zac?!" The voice had me turning towards the direction.

My chest tightened, my stomach churned, ready to throw up the food I've had, the ice cream first.

Zoey Hushton? My enemy from highschool. What was she doing here? And how did she know where to find Zac? More importantly, when did she and Zac start speaking to each other?

She walked up to our booth. She sneered when she spotted me. "So it's true? What I read on the news is true? You're with her?" She pointed long, acrylic nails at me.

"What news?" Zac appeared calm.

As usual, her melodramatic self had attracted attention.

She brought out her phone and shoved it in his face. His brows quirked, then he raised his eyes to meet mine. "News travel fast. Well, you know Dahlia. She's our..."

"Yes, I know Dahlia Harold. How can I forget the highschool dropout. The girl who went from being her parents' favorite princess to the disowned pregnant pauper."

"Stop it. We're in public." Zac was annoyed. "You're ruining my reputation."

She swallowed, looking round to see people whipping out their phones to record. She plastered on a smile, draping her arms around him, her body pressing into him.

My forehead creased in perplexity. Humiliation still in the background over how she'd described my life in public.

What was going on?

"I'm sorry, baby. I just got jealous." She nuzzled his neck.

"There's nothing to be jealous of. It's a friendly reunion. Nothing more." He said, his own arm going round her back.

I couldn't help but drop my jaw.

She saw the astonishment on my face, her smug growing. "You didn't tell her, baby."

"T-tell me w-what?" I knew how stupid I sounded, but it was beyond my control.

When he looked at me, his expression was blank. "Zoey and I are dating."