Her Song, His Heart

Chasing Ghosts

The next morning, Mannon woke up to the sound of soft humming. Padding into the kitchen, she found Amara flipping pancakes, her bump slightly swaying as she moved.

“Good morning, Mama-to-be,” Mannon teased, leaning against the counter.

Amara shot her a tired smile. “Morning. I thought I’d make us breakfast before you started fussing over me again.”

Mannon chuckled, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “You’re lucky I didn’t get up earlier to stop you.”

As they sat down to eat, the atmosphere grew quiet. Mannon twirled her fork around her plate, debating whether to bring up the subject again. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in.

“Amara,” she began cautiously, “I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

Amara’s shoulders tensed slightly, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“Who is he? The father?” Mannon asked, her voice steady but firm.

Amara froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Her eyes darted to Mannon’s face, searching for judgment, but all she found was determination.

“Mannon, I told you, it doesn’t matter—”

“It matters to me,” Mannon interrupted, her tone soft but unyielding. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of him walking away like this. You deserve better, Amara. Your baby deserves better.”

Amara sighed, setting her fork down. “His name is Jordan. Jordan Matthews.”

The name hit Mannon like a slap. Jordan. She knew him—he’d been part of their friend group years ago. Always charming, always the center of attention. But he’d also had a reputation for being unreliable.

“That jerk,” Mannon muttered under her breath, her fists clenching.

Amara gave her a sad smile. “He wasn’t always like that, you know. We… we had something real, or at least I thought we did. But when I told him I was pregnant, he just shut down. He said he wasn’t ready to be a father and walked out.”

Mannon’s jaw tightened. “That’s no excuse. He doesn’t just get to disappear because he’s not ready. He made this baby too.”

“Mannon, please,” Amara said, her voice pleading. “I don’t want to drag him into this if he doesn’t want to be here. It’ll only hurt more.”

But Mannon’s mind was made up. She wasn’t going to let this slide.

---

Tracking Him Down

It didn’t take long for Mannon to find Jordan. Social media made it easy—his profile was filled with pictures of him partying, living it up, and acting like he didn’t have a care in the world.

He hadn’t changed one bit.

Mannon’s anger simmered as she stared at the screen. How could he go on like this, pretending nothing had happened?

The next day, Mannon told Amara she needed to run some errands and set out to find him. Her first stop was a café where their old friend group used to hang out. Sure enough, there he was, sitting at an outdoor table with a cup of coffee and his phone in hand.

Mannon took a deep breath and marched over.

“Jordan,” she said sharply.

He looked up, startled, and then his face broke into a grin. “Mannon! Long time no see. Wow, you look amazing.”

“Don’t,” she snapped, cutting him off. “You don’t get to charm your way out of this.”

His smile faltered. “What’s this about?”

“You know exactly what this is about,” she said, crossing her arms. “Amara. The baby.”

Jordan’s expression darkened. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Well, too bad,” Mannon shot back. “Because you don’t get to run away and pretend it never happened. Amara loved you, Jordan. She trusted you. And you walked out on her the second things got real.”

He shifted uncomfortably, looking around as if searching for an escape. “Mannon, it’s not that simple—”

“It is that simple,” she said, her voice rising. “You don’t get to just abandon her because you’re scared or not ready. She’s doing this on her own, and she’s being brave, which is more than I can say for you.”

Jordan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, Mannon thought he might argue. But then his shoulders slumped.

“I’m not cut out for this,” he muttered.

“No one’s cut out for it at first,” Mannon said, her voice softening slightly. “But you don’t have to do it alone. Amara’s not asking for much, Jordan. She just needs to know you care.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. “I don’t know if I can be what they need.”

“Then figure it out,” Mannon said firmly. “Because if you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

---

Returning to Amara

When Mannon got back to the apartment, Amara was sitting on the couch, her hands folded nervously.

“You were gone a while,” she said, her voice cautious.

“I saw him,” Mannon admitted, setting her bag down.

Amara’s eyes widened. “Mannon, I told you not to—”

“I know,” Mannon interrupted, sitting beside her. “But I couldn’t just let it go. He needed to hear the truth.”

“And what did he say?” Amara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mannon hesitated. “He’s scared, Amara. But I think… I think he’s starting to realize what he’s missing out on.”

Amara shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “I don’t know if I can trust him again.”

“You don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Mannon said gently. “Just focus on you and the baby. If he steps up, great. If not, you’ve got me. You’ll never be alone in this.”

Amara leaned into her, her tears soaking into Mannon’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Always,” Mannon replied, holding her close.