Scenario:A girl gets pregnant and tells her boyfriend first, the boyfriend breaks up with the girl, telling her he is not ready to be a father. Then the girl tells her parents and they kick her out of the house, the girl goes to live with her best friend, after the girl gives birth, the girl best friend kisses her and they get married a few months after the girl give birth to her twins, one girl and one boy.
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A girl gets pregnant and tells her boyfriend first, the boyfriend breaks up with the girl, telling her he is not ready to be a father. Then the girl tells her parents and they kick her out of the house, the girl goes to live with her best friend, after the girl gives birth, the girl best friend kisses her and they get married a few months after the girl give birth to her twins, one girl and one boy.
I was pregnant.
I was really, actually, truly pregnant.
I stared at the two lines on the test in disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest.
I’d been so sure that I couldn’t be pregnant that I’d taken the test on a whim, just to rule it out and stop myself from worrying about it.
But now I knew the truth, and it was like my entire world had shifted on its axis.
I was going to have a baby.
My first thought was of Mark, my boyfriend of two years.
He was going to be so excited when he found out.
He’d been talking about having kids for months, and I knew he’d be over the moon when he realized that we were finally going to start a family together.
I grabbed my phone and dialed his number, my hands shaking with excitement.
"Hey," he said when he picked up. "What’s up?"
"I have some news," I said, grinning from ear to ear.
"I’m pregnant."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"What?"
Mark said finally.
"I’m pregnant," I repeated.
"You’re sure?"
"Yeah. I took a test this morning."
Another pause.
"Shit," Mark said. "This isn’t good."
"What do you mean?"
I asked, my smile fading.
"I mean… I don’t know if I’m ready to be a dad," he said.
"We talked about this. You said you wanted kids."
"I know I said that," Mark replied, his voice strained. "But saying it and actually facing it are two different things."
My heart sank. "What are you trying to say?"
"I just... I can't do this, Emily," he said, his words hitting me like a punch to the gut.
I felt my breath catch in my throat. "What do you mean you can't do this?"
"I'm not ready for this kind of responsibility," he said, his tone growing more resolute. "I thought I was, but I'm not. I can't be a father right now."
"Mark, please," I pleaded, my voice trembling. "We can figure this out together. We always do."
"No, Emily," he said firmly. "I can't. I'm sorry."
Tears welled up in my eyes as the reality of his words began to sink in. "So what does this mean for us?"
There was another long pause before he spoke again. "I think we need to break up."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. My knees buckled, and I sank onto the edge of the bed. "You can't be serious."
"I am," he said quietly. "I'm really sorry, Emily."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Just moments ago, I had been so excited to share this news with him, and now my entire world was crumbling around me. "Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"No," he said softly. "I've made up my mind."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. "Fine," I said finally. "If that's what you want."
"It is," he replied.
"Goodbye, Mark," I said, and hung up the phone.
For a moment, I just sat there in stunned silence, staring at the phone in my hand. Then the tears started to fall, hot and fast down my cheeks. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally managed to pull myself together enough to think about what I needed to do next. The thought of telling my parents filled me with dread. They were going to be so disappointed in me.
But I knew I couldn't avoid it forever. Taking a deep breath, I wiped away my tears and stood up. Grabbing my coat and keys, I headed out the door and drove to my parents' house.
The drive seemed to take forever, even though it was only a few miles away. My mind raced with thoughts of how they would react. Would they be angry? Disappointed? Supportive?
When I finally pulled into the driveway, I sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel tightly as I tried to summon the courage to go inside.
"You can do this," I whispered to myself.
Taking one last deep breath, I got out of the car and walked up to the front door. My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob.
This was it.
There was no turning back now.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
They both looked up as I entered.
"Emily, what a surprise," my mom said, setting her knitting aside.
"Hey, sweetheart," my dad added, folding his newspaper.
I took a deep breath, feeling my heart pound in my chest.
"Mom, Dad, I need to talk to you about something important," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
They exchanged worried glances before focusing their attention on me.
"What's going on?" my dad asked, his brow furrowing.
I took another deep breath and blurted out the words before I could lose my nerve.
"I'm pregnant."
The room fell silent.
My mom's eyes widened in shock, and she brought a hand to her mouth.
My dad's face turned red with anger.
"What?" he shouted, standing up abruptly.
"How could you be so irresponsible, Emily?"
"Dad, please," I begged, tears welling up in my eyes again.
"I didn't plan for this to happen."
My mom started to cry silently, her shoulders shaking with each sob.
My dad's anger only seemed to grow.
"This is unacceptable," he yelled.
"You've ruined your life! How could you let this happen?"
I felt like I was being crushed under the weight of their disappointment and anger.
"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, my voice breaking.
"No," my dad said firmly. "You need to leave this house immediately."
"Dad!" I cried out in disbelief. "Please don't do this."
But his expression remained hard and unyielding. "Pack your things and go."
Heartbroken and feeling utterly alone, I turned and ran upstairs to my room.
I grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began throwing clothes into it haphazardly, tears streaming down my face the entire time.
Once I had everything packed, I dragged the suitcase downstairs and out to my car.
My mom stood by the door, still crying but saying nothing.
My dad didn't even look at me.
I drove away from the house with no clear destination in mind.
After a few minutes of driving aimlessly, I found myself heading toward Sarah's house.
Sarah had been my best friend since childhood; if anyone could help me through this, it was her.
When I pulled up outside her house, I saw her peeking through the window.
She opened the door before I even reached it.
"Emily!" she exclaimed, concern etched on her face.
"What happened?"
I couldn't hold back any longer.
I collapsed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Sarah held me tightly, whispering soothing words as she led me inside.
She guided me to the couch and handed me a box of tissues.
"Tell me everything," she said softly.
Between sobs, I recounted everything that had happened: finding out I was pregnant, Mark breaking up with me, and my parents' reaction.
Sarah listened intently without interrupting.
When I finished, she pulled me into another hug.
"I'm so sorry you're going through this," she said gently.
"But you're not alone. You can stay here as long as you need."
Her words were like a lifeline.
Over the next few days, Sarah's unwavering support helped me regain some of my strength.
She made sure I ate properly and got enough rest.
She even accompanied me to doctor's appointments.
As the months passed and my due date approached, Sarah never left my side.
When the twins were finally born—two beautiful baby girls—Sarah was right there in the delivery room with me.
She held my hand through every contraction and whispered words of encouragement.
After what felt like an eternity of pain and effort, the babies were finally born.
Exhausted but overjoyed, I looked at Sarah with tears of gratitude in my eyes.
She smiled back at me warmly before leaning down to kiss me tenderly on the lips.
The unexpected gesture sent a jolt through me; it changed everything between us in an instant.
The hospital room was quiet now, the only sounds were the soft coos of the babies and the distant hum of medical equipment.
Sarah stood beside me, her eyes filled with warmth and love.
She gently took one of the babies from my arms and cradled her close.
"We're in this together," she whispered, her voice steady and reassuring.
I nodded, tears of relief streaming down my face.
"Thank you," I managed to say, my voice choked with emotion.
Sarah smiled at me, her eyes never leaving mine.
"We'll figure it out," she said softly.
We settled into a routine over the next few days.
Sarah was a natural with the babies, helping with midnight feedings and diaper changes without a second thought.
Her presence was a constant source of comfort and stability in what could have been an incredibly chaotic time.
One evening, as we sat on the couch in our small living room, exhausted but content, Sarah reached for my hand.
The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting a warm glow over us and the sleeping twins in their bassinets nearby.
"Emily," she began softly, her thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.
I turned to look at her, my heart racing as I saw the seriousness in her eyes.
"Yes?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Marry me," she said simply, her voice filled with determination and love.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at her in shock.
"Sarah..." I started, but she cut me off gently.
"I know it's sudden," she said quickly. "But I love you. And I love these babies. I want to be there for you all, always."
I felt a warmth spread through me as I looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and love there.
A smile slowly spread across my face as I realized how deep our bond had grown over these past months.
"Yes," I whispered finally. "Yes, I'll marry you."
Sarah's face lit up with joy as she pulled me into a tight embrace.
We stayed like that for a moment, holding each other close and savoring the happiness that filled the room.
Just then, one of the twins began to fuss in her bassinet.
Sarah and I pulled apart reluctantly, both laughing softly at the interruption.
"I guess that's our cue," Sarah said with a grin as she stood up to tend to the baby.
I watched her with a smile on my face, feeling more content than I had in a long time.
As Sarah picked up our daughter and soothed her back to sleep, I knew that we were going to be okay.
We had each other—and now we had a future together as well.
One sunny afternoon, Sarah took the twins to their pediatrician for a routine check-up. I stayed behind to finalize some wedding details. The house was unusually quiet without the girls' laughter echoing through the rooms.
I was in the kitchen, flipping through a bridal magazine, when the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone, so I approached the door with curiosity. When I opened it, my heart skipped a beat.
"Mark," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He stood there, looking as handsome as ever but with an air of tension around him. "Emily, can we talk?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let him in. "Sure," I said, closing the door behind him.
We moved to the living room, where Mark paced nervously while I sat on the edge of the couch. The room felt smaller with him in it, the air thick with unspoken words.
"I've been thinking about us," Mark began, stopping to look at me. "About everything that happened."
I swallowed hard, memories of our breakup flooding back. "What do you mean?"
He took a deep breath. "I made a mistake, Emily. Leaving you was the worst decision I've ever made."
His words hit me like a tidal wave. "Mark..."
"Please," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "Just hear me out."
I nodded silently, my heart pounding in my chest.
"I still love you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "And I want to be part of your life again."
My mind raced as I tried to process his words. "But Mark... I'm getting married," I said softly.
"I know," he replied quickly. "But I can't just walk away without telling you how I feel."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him. "Why now? Why did you wait until now to say this?"
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe seeing you happy made me realize what I lost."
The room was silent for a moment as we both struggled with our emotions.
"I can't do this," I finally said, standing up. "I've moved on, Mark."
He stepped closer to me, his eyes pleading. "Please, Emily... just give us another chance."
Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us and kissed me passionately. My mind screamed at me to stop, but my body betrayed me as I kissed him back.
We stumbled towards the bedroom, our hands frantically exploring each other like we were trying to make up for lost time. Clothes were discarded hastily as we fell onto the bed.
The intensity of our encounter left me breathless and confused. As we lay there afterward, reality crashed down on me like a ton of bricks.
"What have we done?" I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
Mark reached out to touch my cheek gently. "It's going to be okay," he said softly.
But deep down, I knew it wasn't that simple.
The weeks that followed were filled with guilt and anxiety as I tried to come to terms with what had happened. Sarah noticed my unease but attributed it to wedding stress.
Then came the day that changed everything again: another positive pregnancy test.
I stared at those two lines in disbelief once more—only this time it wasn't joy or excitement that filled me but dread and fear.
How could I tell Sarah? How could I explain what had happened?
The weight of my secret grew heavier with each passing day as our wedding approached.
Finally unable to bear it any longer one evening after putting the twins down for bed; Sarah found me sitting alone on our porch staring blankly into space.
"Emily?" she called softly from behind me startling me out of my thoughts; turning around slowly meeting her concerned gaze tears welled up uncontrollably spilling over onto cheeks unable hold back anymore words tumbled out between sobs;
Sarah's face turned pale as my words sank in. "What do you mean, Mark came back?" she asked, her voice trembling.
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. "He kissed me, and we... I’m pregnant again," I admitted, my voice breaking.
Sarah's expression shifted from shock to anger. She clenched her fists, struggling to contain her emotions. "How could you?" she shouted, tears streaming down her face.
I reached out, desperate to comfort her. "Sarah, please—"
But she stepped back, shaking her head furiously. "I need time to think," she said coldly before storming out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving me alone and devastated. The silence that followed was deafening. I sank down onto the porch steps, burying my face in my hands as sobs wracked my body.
Minutes felt like hours as I sat there, replaying the events in my mind. How had everything gone so wrong? The twins' soft cries from inside the house brought me back to reality. I wiped my tears and stood up shakily, knowing I had to take care of them even if my world was falling apart.
I walked back inside and headed to the nursery. The room was dimly lit by a nightlight shaped like a moon, casting a gentle glow over the cribs. I picked up one of the girls and rocked her gently in my arms.
"It's going to be okay," I whispered, more to myself than to her. But the words felt hollow.
The next few days were a blur of routine tasks and sleepless nights. Sarah didn't come home that night or the next. Each passing day without her felt like an eternity. I tried calling her, texting her—anything to reach out—but there was no response.
One evening, as I was feeding the twins their dinner, there was a knock on the door. My heart leapt with hope as I hurried to answer it. But it wasn't Sarah standing on the other side; it was Mark.
"Emily," he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. "Can we talk?"
I hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let him in. We moved to the living room where he sat down on the couch while I remained standing.
"I heard about what happened," he began cautiously. "Are you okay?"
"No," I replied bluntly. "I'm not okay."
Mark looked down at his hands, guilt evident on his face. "I'm sorry for everything," he said quietly.
"Sorry doesn't fix this," I snapped, feeling anger rise within me. "You ruined everything."
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with regret. "I know," he admitted. "But I'm here now—for you and for our baby."
I shook my head in disbelief. "It's too late for that."
Before he could respond, another knock echoed through the house. My heart pounded as I opened the door to find Sarah standing there, looking exhausted but determined.
"Can we talk?" she asked quietly.
I nodded and stepped aside to let her in. She glanced at Mark briefly before turning her attention back to me.
"We need to figure this out," she said firmly.
Mark stood up from the couch and approached us cautiously. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes," he offered.
Sarah looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness before turning back to me. "Emily," she began softly, "do you still love him?"
Her question caught me off guard; I hadn't allowed myself to think about that amidst all the chaos. My mind raced as I searched for an answer but found none that made sense.
"I don't know," I whispered finally.
Sarah sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair. "We need time—to process all of this."
Mark nodded in agreement while I stood there feeling lost between two worlds that seemed irreconcilable.
The tension in the room was palpable as we stood there in silence until finally Sarah spoke again: "Let's take some time apart—to figure out what we really want."