PREGNANT AT TWENTY: HE NEVER KNEW

A week had passed since I gave birth.

For now, I had decided to return to our hometown. Staying there seemed like the only option, even if it meant enduring the judgment of our neighbours—especially the women who never missed an opportunity to gossip about me.

"I really thought she'd be the one to lift her family out of poverty," one of them sneered. "Turns out she's just another shameless girl." I squeezed my eyes shut at the words. I wanted to march over and yank that woman’s tongue out. She acts so holy, yet even her own laundry is always stained and dirty.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a familiar voice called out. "It's barely sunrise, and you're already spreading rumours. Have you even cooked breakfast for your own children yet?" I couldn’t help but smile as I looked out the window. My younger sister Veronica had arrived and she was still in her school uniform, as if she’d come straight from class.

“Goodness, so many flies buzzing around so early,” she said pointedly. The women exchanged embarrassed glances. One by one, they walked away, muttering under their breath and throwing us hateful looks as they left.

Veronica stepped inside, let out a long sigh, and looked at me.

“What a waste you are. I truly believed you’d be the one to pull us up in life. Instead, you’re dragging our name through the mud,” she said sharply the moment she crossed the threshold.

Her words struck harder than the neighbours' insults.

I lowered my eyes, unable to answer. I couldn't understand how everything had changed so quickly. Whenever I sent money home, everyone smiled at me. They thanked me, praised me, and treated me like the family's hope. But one mistake was all it took. Now I was the family's greatest shame.

"Veronica!" Mom scolded as she entered the house carrying her basket from the market. "Don't speak to your sister like that."

"Why shouldn't I?" Veronica shot back. "I'm telling the truth! You've always favoured her, so it doesn't matter to you what kind of disgrace she brings upon us."

I could endure anything they said about me, but I would not let anyone speak disrespectfully to my mother.

“Veronica! Do not answer back to Mom! I will accept every insult you throw at me, but I will not stand for you disrespecting the woman who gave birth to you!” I shouted back, my voice raised for the first time ever. Everyone knew me as the calm, kind older sister – the one they could count on for everything. But because of one mistake, all of that was gone. Even the respect and support I’d always known had vanished.

"This is all your fault!" Veronica cried. "Everything's ruined! I had to stop studying because we couldn't pay my tuition anymore. What did you expect? That I'd end up like you? Get a job only to have my boss get me pregnant too?"

Slap!

"You've gone too far!" I shouted.

The moment my hand touched her cheek, regret crashed over me. I had never imagined I would raise my hand against my own sister.

Tears blurred my vision.

Somehow, all the responsibilities our father had abandoned while wasting his life on gambling and drink had become mine to carry.

She touched her stinging cheek, burst into tears, and ran out of the house.

"I-I'm sorry... Veronica!" I cried, trying to follow her. Mom caught my arm and gently pulled me back into her embrace. At that exact moment, my baby began crying from our room. I pulled away quickly and ran to my child. I held him tight – for a moment, he was the only one I could turn to. I cradled him close, let him nurse, and soon we both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Days passed after our fight, yet the heavy weight in my chest refused to disappear. No matter what I did, it felt as though nothing I gave was ever enough.

Even if I exhausted myself washing clothes and cleaning the house, would that be enough to feed my child?

No.

I needed to earn more.

I had to find a proper job.

One afternoon, on my way home after another day of job-hunting, I passed an older man known all over town for his wealth. He stepped closer to me where I stood waiting by the sari-sari store, his eyes travelling over me from head to toe in a way that made my skin crawl.

"You're even more beautiful up close," he began in a low, oily voice. "I heard you're looking for work. I need someone to clean and cook at my house. I'll pay you twice what everyone else earns. But... there's one condition."

My heart tightened. “What is it, Sir?”

He moved even closer, his breath almost brushing my skin. The scent of expensive cologne was overpowered by the sharp, strong smell of alcohol.

"You just have to keep me company. Every night. I'll pay you double... even triple if you satisfy me. No more backbreaking laundry work. Why struggle when you can have everything you want in a single night?"

I didn't let him finish.

My blood boiled with anger and disgust.

“Thank you for your offer, Sir,” I said firmly, stepping back further. “But I will never sell myself, no matter how desperate I become. I have a child to raise, and I will not let him grow up knowing his mother chose the easy way instead of the honorable one.”

He laughed coarsely, as though he had heard the same refusal many times before.

“Fine—hold on to your pride. But do not wonder why you struggle so hard to get by while others live comfortably. Life is all about trade-offs, girl. Everything has a price.”

“There are things money can never buy,” I replied sharply, then turned and walked away quickly. My heart beat fast—not from fear, but from rage. Fate may have pushed me into a corner, but there were limits to what I would endure. My dignity was not for sale, not ever.