His Pregnancy Ultimatum. Helen Bianchin

      ‘Oh, hell, yes.’ The man, the night, the sex filled her mind in vivid detail. His powerful image, his touch, everything about him was indelibly imprinted in her mind.

      Alice discarded her tea and sank back in her chair. ‘You had a wild night with someone you’d never met before?’ She shook her head in silent disbelief. ‘My sensible sister who’s so selective with her body she steadfastly refused to sleep with the man who wanted to put a ring on her finger?’

      How could she explain all it had taken was one look, and she’d felt her bones melt? Recognition on some intense instinctive level that went beyond anything she’d ever known before.

      ‘Someone must have spiked your drink.’ It was the only logical explanation Alice could summon, and Mia shook her head.

      ‘I wasn’t drinking.’ There was nothing, no one to blame but herself.

      ‘Have you told him you’re pregnant?’

      How could she, when she didn’t even know his name, let alone where he lived, worked?

      Her silence was sufficient answer, and Alice’s features softened with distress. ‘He’s married?’

      The thought almost destroyed her. If only for the reason it pegged him as a cheater, and made a bad situation worse. ‘I have no idea.’

      ‘Yet you had unprotected sex?’ Her sister’s face paled at the implications. ‘Are you insane?’

      ‘One of the condoms broke.’

      Alice’s gaze widened. ‘One?’ She waited a beat. ‘Oh, my.’

      Oh, my didn’t come close. The sex had been mind-blowing, passion at its zenith…for her. Had it been the same for him? He hadn’t said, but then neither had she. In truth, she hadn’t been capable of uttering a word.

      ‘You don’t have his name? Anything?’

      It sounded crazy to admit an exchange of names hadn’t seemed important at the time. Worse, it hadn’t even entered the equation.

      ‘I left while he was still sleeping,’ Mia revealed after an agonising silence, not adding her sense of sick shame, or the furtiveness with which she’d donned her clothes and crept from the room, the hotel, and summoned a cab.

      Oh, Lord…how could she have discarded every moral she’d held dear all her life for one night with a man she’d never met before? Worse, would undoubtedly never see again?

      It didn’t make sense any more now than it had then. And she couldn’t even claim her decision to go with him had been clouded by alcohol.

      ‘Are you considering a termination?’

      Pain clenched deep inside, a tangible entity that momentarily clouded her eyes. She wanted this child. So much so, she couldn’t bear the thought of extinguishing its foetal life. It was a part of her, him. A vivid reminder of what they’d shared. ‘Do you think I haven’t agonised over that decision every hour of every day?’

      ‘And?’

      ‘I recognise the wisdom associated with termination, given the circumstances,’ she offered slowly as she met and held her sister’s gaze. ‘But I don’t think I can do it.’ She lifted a hand and smoothed a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, then attempted a faint smile that somehow didn’t quite come off.

      As close as they were, she couldn’t bring herself to admit that what she’d initially damned as unbridled lust was something much deeper, more meaningful than just the slaking of physical need. It touched her heart, her soul, and captivated both on a level she hadn’t dreamed possible.

      The child she carried represented part of that.

      ‘No verbal warning about bringing a child into the world and raising it as a single mother?’

      ‘I look at Matt and know my life would be as nothing without him,’ Alice assured quietly. ‘He’s my light, my laughter, my joy.’ She paused in reflective silence as she chose her words. ‘There are a number of working mothers in today’s world. I guess I have to say emotionally it would be easier to share things with a supportive partner,’ she added. ‘Someone who could cut me some slack every now and then. Share the responsibility. However, if you want reassurance single parenthood can work…I have no regrets, not one.’

      ‘I know it.’

      Alice’s hands reached out and covered her own. ‘I’m sure whatever decision you make will be the right one.’

      For me? Or the child?

      It was something that had kept her awake nights, diminished her ability to study, and with morning sickness beginning to kick in she was forcibly reminded of the need to make a choice…soon.

      ‘If seeing the pregnancy through is an option, you could transfer to a university here and move in with me.’

      Tears sprang, clouding her vision, and she blinked to dispense them.

      Unconditional love. It was beyond price, and infinitely precious. ‘Thanks.’

      ‘But…?’

      Alice knew her well. Too well. ‘If I take that option, the responsibility is my own.’

      ‘I kind of figured you’d say that.’ An absentminded sip from her cup brought a murmur of disgust. ‘I’ll make fresh tea.’

      Mia checked her watch. ‘You don’t want to be late collecting Matt.’

      Her sister groaned. ‘I need to take him on to the tennis club for coaching.’

      ‘We can pick up something to go, and drink it while we watch him.’

      They did, and Matt’s enthusiastic welcome lightened Mia’s heart a little as she applauded his good shots with as much fervour as his mother.

      Was this where she’d be in ten years? Cheering her son or daughter on from the sideline? Ensuring there was a host of extra-curricular activities to strengthen the mind and body, thus avoiding the pitfalls of vulnerable youth?

      The conception of this tiny foetus growing inside her womb was a mistake. Yet its presence existed. If she carried it to term, it would never know its father. And what empathy could she hope to achieve as a mother with her child if she went with honesty and revealed the child’s existence was the result of a one-night stand with a stranger?

      ‘Did you see that backhand?’

      She had, in an abstracted way. ‘Poetry in motion,’ she conceded, punching the air for Matt’s benefit.

      At that moment her cellphone buzzed with an incoming SMS message, and she frowned as she read the text.

      ‘Problem?’ Alice queried, and Mia offered a rueful smile.

      ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

      Alice’s gaze held hers. ‘But not one you particularly want to?’

      Mia rolled her eyes in an expressive gesture. ‘It’s—awkward.’

      ‘Explain awkward.’

      ‘It’s from Cris.’

      ‘One of the students you share lectures with?’

      ‘Yes. His family are Sydney based.’

      ‘That’s a problem, how?’

      ‘He’s nineteen, and he hasn’t told his family he’s gay.’

      Alice’s expression didn’t change. ‘Okay, so why do I get the impression there’s more to it than what you’re telling me?’

      Mia took her time in answering. ‘He’s a nice guy.’

      ‘And you feel protective of him?’

      She summoned a mental image of the tall, lean young man who made her