Sera slammed her apartment door shut with the kind of force that said, "Do not test me today."
The sound of the bang bounced off her walls, rattling the cheap picture frames and sending a startled Lily skittering off the couch like a squirrel on Red Bull.
"Jesus! You scared the crap out of me," Lily called out from the living room, still wearing Sera's oversized hoodie and holding a mug with "World's Okayest Roommate" written in faded letters. "Did the hospital inject you with rage or caffeine?"
Sera didn't answer. She headed straight to the bathroom, yanked the cabinet open, and slapped a scrub mask onto her face like it had personally offended her.
The citrusy sting of lemon and mint clung to her cheeks as she scrubbed her face. Her fingers worked the gritty scrub into her skin like it was Evander's smug face beneath them.
"Fucking Clause 7.7," she muttered, her jaw tight.
The mirror stared back—foggy, streaked with steam, and reflecting a woman in green clay mask drying across her cheeks. Her eyes dark and wild like a storm waiting for an excuse.
How dare he?
How dare he hand her that contract again like it was just lunch dessert?
Sera had left the fertility center so fast, her heart nearly punched through her ribs. She booked a cab and didn't wait for his snide farewell or a last chance at humiliation.
Lily appeared in the doorway, blinking at the whirlwind. "Okay. Either you're murdering someone with citrus... or something happened."
Her laugh was short and humorless. "Both."
Lily raised an eyebrow, arms folded, casually leaning on the doorframe in her oversized hoodie. "Spill it, Soap Opera Barbie. You've got that murder glow."
"He put it in the contract, again" Sera said flatly, smearing the mask harder onto her skin as if exfoliation could erase the legal insult. "Evander, that… sociopathic Ken doll. Clause 7.7 says I agreed to everything the moment I got pregnant without signing."
Lily blinked. "Wait, wait! Without signing? That's..he can't do that."
"Apparently he can." Sera reached for her hair clip and twisted her damp strands up into a messy bun. "It's in black and white. Legalese hell. Basically, says if I so much as breath wrong, I could be sued, fined, and sued again."
"He really slapped you with a legal leash?" Lily asked, stepping into the bathroom.
"Yep," Sera exhaled, leaning on the edge of the sink. "Gift wrapped it in condescension and grilled salmon."
Then Lily narrowed her eyes. "Please tell me you didn't punch him."
"No." Sera splashed her face with water, ignoring the sting of the scrub. "Worse. I burped loudly. Then I walked out."
Lily snorted despite herself. "You burped at the billionaire."
Sera looked her dead in the eye. "Like a war cry."
A beat of silence. Then both of them burst out laughing.
It didn't last long though.
Sera wiped her hands on the towel and faced her. "Remember the lawyer whom I met this early morning?"
"Of course," Lily rolled her eyes. "The one who made you sign with fancy pens and wore those weird no-sock loafers like he was auditioning for Suits?"
"Yeah, Mathew." Sera's nostrils flared. "Turns out, he was Evander's guy. The whole time."
Lily froze mid-step. "Wait..what?"
"He filed the damn lawsuit, pretended to fight on my behalf, even had the audacity to look sympathetic." Sera let out a breath that was more growl than sigh. "He sold me out, Lily. For what? A paycheck? Loyalty? Blackmail?"
Lily stared at her like she'd just confessed of hiding a body. "Jesus. That's… that's like beyond betrayal. That's movie-villain betrayal."
Sera bit down on the burn in her throat. "I trusted him."
"And he fucking weaponized your trust," Lily finished. Then, she stepped forward and gently rubbed her face with the towel. "Let me," Lily said.
Sera let out a shaky breath. "Why does it always feel like I'm playing chess, and they're playing poker with a loaded gun?"
"Because you are," Lily replied, "but they underestimated you."
Sera managed a small smile. "I underestimated myself."
They laughed, a little brittle, a little tired..but real.
Later, the two of them curled up on the couch, still in robes and bare feet, each nursing a mug of ginger tea.
Sera reached for her bag slowly. "I wasn't going to show this to him. I wanted to right after the scan. I thought… maybe he deserved to see it. But not after today."
Lily blinked. "What?"
Sera pulled the glossy sonogram printout from the side pocket of her bag and handed it over like it was sacred. Like it weighed more than any amount of money ever could.
Lily's breath caught. "Oh… my god," she whispered. "Sera…"
There was that flicker of life on the gray paper. A tiny speck. A dot that meant everything.
"It's so…" Lily's voice cracked, unexpectedly soft. "It's so tiny and heartwarming. A little heartbeat."
Sera swallowed past the lump rising again in her throat. "It's mine, Lils. I heard it. It… it's alive. Despite me. Despite everything."
Lily clutched the print to her chest for a moment, grinning and sniffling. "He has no idea the kind of mother you're going to be, does he?"
"No," Sera replied, "But he will."
"You are going to talk to him again?" Lily asked gently, curling up beside her.
"Nope," Sera replied, taking a sip of her ginger tea. "He can take his contract, roll it up, and use it as a designer back scratcher for all I care."
Lily gave a soft laugh, but didn't push.
Sera stared at the ceiling, "It's crazy. All of this. A week ago, I was still living paycheck to paycheck and trying not to die from cramps every cycle. Now I'm pregnant with a billionaire's baby and apparently locked into a legally binding hell-storm."
A long pause.
Then she looked down at her belly. Still flat. Still hers. And yet... not just hers anymore.
"I don't even know if I want to keep it," she muttered softly. Her fingers brushed the photo again. "But I heard the heartbeat, Lils. It was so tiny, but so loud in my chest. Like it knew it was mine. Like it wanted to live."
Lily didn't say anything. Just leaned closer, resting her head on Sera's shoulder and wrapping her arms around her.
Sera sighed, her hands clutched the photo tighter. Her brain buzzed with noise, fear, anger, confusion.
But under all of it, a single sentence kept looping through her mind, soft but insistent—You're going to be a mother.
God help her.
Because she had no clue what the hell will come next.