The house didn't feel the same anymore.
The warmth that had welcomed me when I first stepped in had been replaced by something heavier. Something tense. Something that pressed against my chest and made it hard to breathe.
Silence filled the room, but it wasn't the peaceful kind.
It was the kind that comes before a storm.
My mother was seated on the couch, her hands still trembling slightly as she held onto the edge of her dress. Her eyes were red, swollen from the tears she had tried—and failed—to hold back.
My father stood near the window, his back facing me.
He hadn't said a word in the last few minutes.
And somehow… that was worse.
Because I didn't know what he was thinking.
I didn't know how he was going to react.
I didn't know if the silence meant he was holding himself together…
Or if he was about to break.
"Jessy…"
My mother's voice came out soft. Fragile.
I turned to look at her.
Her eyes met mine, and this time, they didn't just hold shock.
They held pain.
Deep, aching pain.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice breaking halfway through the sentence.
The question hit me harder than anything else.
Not anger.
Not disappointment.
But that.
That quiet hurt.
My throat tightened immediately.
"I was scared, Mom…" I whispered, my voice shaking. "I didn't know how to say it… I didn't know how you would react… I thought—"
"You thought we would stop loving you?" she cut in, her voice trembling as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
I froze.
Because… that had been part of it.
I looked down, unable to meet her eyes.
"I didn't want to disappoint you," I admitted softly.
A broken sound left her lips.
In the next second, she stood up and walked toward me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
Her arms wrapped around me protectively, as if she was trying to shield me from everything—including my own mistakes.
"Jessy…" she whispered against my hair. "You could never lose me. Never."
The tears I had been holding back spilled freely again.
I clung to her, my body shaking.
For a moment, it felt like everything would be okay.
Like maybe love would be enough to carry me through this.
But then—
"Who is he?"
My father's voice cut through the moment like a blade.
We both froze.
I slowly pulled away from my mother and turned toward him.
He was no longer facing the window.
He was looking directly at me now.
And the expression on his face…
It wasn't just anger.
It was something deeper.
Disappointment.
Protectiveness.
And a quiet, controlled rage.
"The boy," he continued, his tone firm. "Who is he, Jessy?"
My chest tightened.
I swallowed hard.
"It's… Cypher," I said quietly.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"That same boy you've never told us about?" he asked.
I hesitated.
"…Yes."
A heavy silence followed.
My father took a slow step forward.
"Does he know?" he asked.
The question made my heart drop.
I hesitated again.
And that hesitation… said everything.
My father's expression hardened instantly.
"Jessy," his voice dropped lower, more serious now. "Does. He. Know."
"Yes," I answered quickly. "He knows."
"Then where is he?" my father demanded.
I opened my mouth—
But no words came out.
Because I didn't have a good answer.
Because the truth…
The truth was embarrassing.
Painful.
Humiliating.
"He's… he's at school," I said weakly.
My father let out a short, humorless laugh.
"At school?" he repeated. "So he knows he got my daughter pregnant… and he is just continuing his life like nothing happened?"
My silence was enough.
My mother turned to look at me again, confusion and concern filling her face.
"Jessy… what do you mean?" she asked softly. "Has he been talking to you?"
My chest tightened painfully.
This was it.
The part I didn't want to say.
The part that made everything worse.
"He… he hasn't been around much," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
My father's expression darkened instantly.
"What does that mean?" he asked sharply.
I felt my hands begin to shake again.
"It means…" I swallowed hard. "He stopped calling like before… he barely replies… sometimes he ignores me completely…"
The words felt heavier with every sentence.
The room went still.
Completely still.
My mother's eyes widened in shock.
My father…
My father looked like he was trying very hard not to lose control.
"So let me understand this," he said slowly, his voice dangerously calm. "This boy got you pregnant… and now he is avoiding you?"
I couldn't answer.
Because that was exactly what was happening.
And saying it out loud made it feel even more real.
My mother covered her mouth again, her eyes filling with fresh tears.
"Oh, Jessy…" she whispered.
But my father…
My father's reaction was different.
His jaw tightened.
His hands clenched.
And for the first time since I walked in—
He looked furious.
"Call him."
The words were sharp.
Commanding.
I blinked.
"…What?"
"Call him," he repeated, louder this time.
My heart skipped.
"Now."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
My chest tightened.
My hands went cold.
"Dad…" I started, my voice shaking. "Maybe we should—"
"No," he cut in firmly. "There is nothing to wait for."
He stepped closer.
"If he is man enough to do this," he said, his voice filled with controlled anger, "then he should be man enough to answer for it."
My heart pounded violently in my chest.
This was happening.
Right now.
No preparation.
No time to think.
No place to hide.
My fingers trembled as I slowly reached for my phone.
The screen lit up.
And there it was.
His name.
Cypher.
For a second, I just stared at it.
Memories flooded my mind.
His smile.
His voice.
The way he used to say my name like it meant something.
The way he used to make me feel safe.
And now…
Now I didn't even know if he would pick up my call.
"Jessy," my father's voice came again, firm and unyielding.
"Call him."
I swallowed hard.
My thumb hovered over his name.
My entire body felt frozen.
But I had no choice.
I tapped it.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each ring felt like a heartbeat.
Loud.
Painful.
Endless.
My grip on the phone tightened.
My breath caught in my throat.
My parents watched me closely.
Waiting.
Listening.
Judging.
Praying.
The call kept ringing.
And ringing.
And ringing.
Then—
It stopped.
My heart dropped.
Call ended.
No answer.
Silence filled the room again.
But this time…
It was worse.
Because now, the silence had an answer.
And that answer hurt more than anything else.
My father's face darkened.
My mother looked at me with heartbreak in her eyes.
And me?
I just stood there.
Staring at my phone.
At his name.
At the call that went unanswered.
And in that moment…
I didn't need anyone to say anything.
Because the truth was already clear.
His silence…
Had spoken louder than words ever could.