Her Song, His Heart

Shadows of the Past

Mannon sat cross-legged on the floor of Amara’s living room, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. The apartment was cozy, filled with soft lighting and the faint scent of vanilla candles. Amara, her best friend and practically her sister, rested on the couch, a protective hand on her growing belly.

For the past few days, Mannon had done everything to keep Amara comfortable—cooking, cleaning, even running out to get those ridiculously specific snacks Amara craved. But tonight, as they settled into a quiet moment, Mannon couldn’t shake a question that had been nagging at her since she arrived.

She glanced at Amara, her brows knitting together. “Amara… do you know who the father is?”

Amara’s hand stilled on her belly. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, Mannon thought she wouldn’t answer. Then she sighed, looking away as if the answer was hidden somewhere in the shadows of the room.

“I do,” she admitted softly. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Mannon set her mug down and shifted closer to the couch. “It does matter,” she said gently. “He has a responsibility. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Amara’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “Mannon, he left the moment I told him I was pregnant. He made it clear he didn’t want this. I’m not dragging someone into my baby’s life who doesn’t want to be there.”

Mannon’s heart clenched at the pain in her friend’s voice. “Amara, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up if it hurts you.”

“It’s okay,” Amara whispered, wiping her eyes. “I’ve accepted it. I’m going to raise this baby on my own, and we’ll be fine. I’ve got you, don’t I?”

Mannon smiled, though her heart was heavy. “Always. You’re stuck with me.”

They shared a small laugh, but Mannon’s mind was racing. She wanted to track down this mystery man and give him a piece of her mind. But she also knew Amara was right—forcing him to be involved wouldn’t help anyone.

---

Later That Night

As Amara slept in her room, Mannon sat on the balcony, staring out at the familiar Sydney skyline. The city lights twinkled like stars, but she couldn’t shake the ache in her chest.

Her phone buzzed beside her, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a message from Chan.

Channie: How’s Amara doing?
Mannon: She’s okay. We talked a lot today.
Channie: And you?

Mannon hesitated before replying.

Mannon: I’m fine. Just worried about her.
Channie: You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know.

She smiled faintly, his words a comfort even from halfway across the world.

Mannon: I know, Channie. Thanks for checking in.

As she set her phone down, she thought about her own family. About Chan. About how he had taken her in and made her feel wanted when she had no one.

Amara’s baby was lucky, she thought. Because no matter what, that child would be surrounded by love.