Once Was Ours

Two weeks had passed.

Two weeks since the test.

Two weeks since the quiet ride home from the doctor's office.

Two weeks since she told her parents, cried in her mother's arms, and heard her father say, "You don't have to go through this alone."

And still—

No word from Alessandro.

No messages.

No calls.

No missed FaceTime attempts.

No seen notifications.

Nothing.

She tried everything.

His phone.

His old social accounts.

At first, she told herself maybe it was just hard to reach him internationally.

Then she wondered if he was just scared.

Then she hoped maybe… just maybe… he was waiting to reach out first.

But hope wears thin after the hundredth try.

.....

Bell was sitting on the edge of her bed, the afternoon light casting shadows across her comforter. She held the phone in her hand, the same number pulled up again. Her finger hovered over the call button.

One more time.

The dial tone rang. Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then:

"Pronto."

The voice was deep. Older. Sharp.

Bell blinked. "Um… is Alessandro there?"

A pause. Cold silence.

"Who is this?"

"Isabella Casanova," she said softly. "I—I need to speak to him. Please."

Another pause. This one longer. Measured.

And then, like a dagger wrapped in velvet:

"Alessandro is not available."

"Can you tell him it's important? I've been trying to reach him, it's—he needs to know something."

A sigh. Then:

"He knows. He told me if you tried calling again to pass along a message."

Bell's breath caught.

"He said he wants nothing to do with you. Or anything you would bring into his life. So if you have any sense of decency, you'll stop calling. And leave him alone."

The line clicked.

Cut.

Just like that.

Bell didn't even realize she'd dropped the phone until she heard it hit the carpet.

...

She'd tried.

She'd tried to tell him.

Called.

Texted.

Begged.

And all she got back was silence — and a voice that didn't belong to him, delivering words she hoped he never really said.

"He wants nothing to do with you."

"Or anything you'd bring into his life."

Bell blinked hard and looked away from the screen. She'd cried enough. Cried until her body physically couldn't do it anymore.

Now?

Now she had to breathe.

Back at home, Bell stood in her bedroom holding the ultrasound photo in one hand, her free hand resting just below her ribs.

It was still early. She barely looked different.

But she felt it.

The weight.

The shift.

The responsibility.

Alessandro was gone.

And she wasn't going to chase him anymore.

I tried.

He didn't listen.

But this baby… this baby is here. This baby is mine. And I'll show up — even if no one else does.

She walked over to her nightstand, opened the top drawer, and carefully tucked the ultrasound inside. Not hiding it. Just protecting it.

Then she picked up her phone, opened a new calendar reminder, and typed:

OBGYN— NEXT APPT. BRING NOTEBOOK. ASK QUESTIONS

Bell stared at the screen for a second, then hit save.

This was her life now.

And she was going to fight for it.