Aria’s POV
Two months at the Quick Stop Mart.
Two months of twelve-hour shifts, aching feet, and Gary’s wandering eyes. Two months of stocking shelves, cleaning toilets, and smiling at custors who looked right through like I was invisible.
I straightened up from restocking the bottom shelf, pressing my hand against my lower back. The ache was constant now. Not just from the work. From the tiny life growing inside , making itself known in ways I couldn’t ignore anymore.
My uniform was getting tight.
I’d noticed it last week. The way the fabric stretched across my midsection. The slight roundness that no amount of baggy shirts could completely hide.
I was showing.
The thought made my heart race with equal parts terror and wonder. This was real. This baby was real. And soon, everyone would know.
"Yo, Aria!"
I looked up. Jenny was waving at from behind the register. She was the only other regular employee—a middle-aged woman with faded tattoos and a laugh that could crack glass. She was rough around the edges, but she’d been kind to . Kinder than anyone else in this place.
"Yeah?"
"Take your break! You’ve been going for four hours straight."
I glanced at the clock. She was right. Ti had a way of disappearing when you were trying not to think.
"Thanks."
I grabbed my water bottle and headed to the small break room in the back. It wasn’t much—just a folding table, two plastic chairs, and a microwave that slled like burnt popcorn. But it was quiet. Private.
I sank into the chair and closed my eyes.
The baby kicked.
Just a flutter. Barely there. But I felt it.
My hand flew to my stomach. Tears burned in my eyes.
"Hey there, little one," I whispered. "I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere."
Whatever others thought of didn’t matter anymore. I had soone who needed now. Soone who would love unconditionally.
The afternoon rush was brutal.
A busload of tourists got lost and ended up at our crappy little convenience store. They bought everything that wasn’t nailed down—chips, sodas, energy drinks, those weird hot dogs that had been spinning on the roller grill since morning.
I rang up purchase after purchase, my back screaming, my feet throbbing. But I kept smiling. Kept saying "have a nice day" like I ant it.
This was my life now. And I was grateful for it. Truly.
Around four o’clock, the rush finally died down. Jenny was restocking the cigarette display, humming so old country song under her breath.
I was wiping down the counter when she spoke.
"So." Her voice was casual. Too casual. "You gonna tell , or what?"
I froze. "Tell you what?"
She nodded toward my midsection. "You’ve been wearing those baggy sweaters for weeks. And I’ve seen you running to the bathroom every morning."
My heart stopped.
"I don’t know what you’re—"
"Girl, please." She snorted. "I’ve had four kids. I know what pregnant looks like."
The denial died on my lips. What was the point? She’d figured it out. And honestly, I was tired of pretending.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I’m pregnant."
Jenny nodded slowly. No judgnt in her eyes. Just curiosity.
"How far along?"
"About three months."
"The daddy know?"
The question hit like a punch. I gripped the counter harder.
"There is no daddy."
Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Honey, that’s not how biology works."
"I an..." I swallowed hard. "He’s not in the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will."
"Bad breakup?"
"Sothing like that."
She was quiet for a mont. Then she sighed, reaching over to pat my hand.
"n are trash. Most of ’em, anyway." She shrugged. "But you’ve got a job. You’re young. You’re tough. You’ll figure it out."
"Thanks, Jenny."
"Don’t thank yet." She grinned, showing a gold tooth. "Wait till that kid starts keeping you up all night. Then you can curse my na for not warning you properly."
I laughed. It felt foreign.
"I an it though," Jenny added, her voice softer now. "You need anything, you let know. I’ve been where you are. Single mom, no support, everyone telling you you’re gonna fail. But you don’t have to listen to ’em."
My eyes stung.
"Thank you," I said again. And this ti, I really ant it.
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