What the actual f—?!
I stared at Marja, completely lost for words.
I'd been with Niklas four years—completely unscathed. And her? Three months in, and she's pregnant already? Just how many sex-ed classes did she skip back in middle school?! No wonder she was more emotional than usual.
"You...you're pregnant?" I stuttered. "With Niklas?"
"Of course it's him!" she exclaimed, wiping her tears like a wounded cat. "I still haven't told him. I didn't know what to do when I found out. I have no one to tell this to but you, Kaija. I don't know what to do about it!"
I covered my face with both hands, slapping it a few times.
Alright, I needed to calm myself down. This wasn't just my traitor best friend anymore—it was a pregnant young woman. Better not provoke her.
"What do you want to do?" I asked.
Marja hesitated, then admitted, "I… I want to keep it."
"At least tell Niklas first," I said. "It's his child too, anyway. Talk to him, see what he wants to do. Then the two of you can decide—like real adults, you know? He's a future doctor. At least he should know a thing or two about pregnancy."
Marja turned those glistening eyes on me again. "And will you… forgive me?"
I stared at her, almost laughing in disbelief. Better not provoke a pregnant woman, I reminded myself again.
"I forgive you," I said bitterly, biting my lip. "Just be happy. Do whatever you want."
Marja came over and hugged me, as if she'd only been waiting for those words. I hugged her back, patting her shoulder gently, but I felt no warmth in my chest.
Once she pulled away, Marja asked, "Kaija, one more thing. What should I tell my parents?"
Right. I facepalmed again.
Marja's parents were no ordinary people. They were the owners of Ralpha, the largest luxury goods company in S Country. Yep, another big, powerful billionaire family, like the Kosonens.
Needless to say, Marja here was the face of Ralpha. Every luxury brand owned by this luxury giant had her face plastered across its ad campaigns.
A shocking news like this—that their precious daughter slash brand ambassador getting pregnant out of wedlock, with no boyfriend ever mentioned—would drive Mr. and Mrs. Ralpha absolutely insane.
Come to think of it, even I sometimes wondered how I'd ever become friends with someone from such a glittering, untouchable world like hers.
"I know it's unreasonable to ask," Marja said, hesitating. "But... I have an idea."
"Tell me."
"My parents know you and Niklas have been together for a long time now. But... can I ask you to lie to them, if they ask? Tell them Niklas was only pretending to be with you, so I could hide the truth from them and the media? That he's been with me all this time?"
I stared at her, completely lost for words.
Was she even aware of what she was asking me to do? I knew what I'd had with Niklas was over, that there was nothing left in my chest for him—but a lie that big?
She'd literally just asked me to pretend the last four years of my life were nothing but a cover story for hers.
I looked away, squeezing my hands tight under the table so I wouldn't smack them across her pregnant face.
"Alright," I said, biting down my lips. "I'll play along with your lies if your parents ever ask. Just make sure you get Niklas to say the same."
"Thank you so much, Kaija," she said, seizing my hands, her tone earnest. "I… I don't know what to s—"
"Just don't," I cut her off. "Don't say anything. I'm tired. I had a long day at work. Can you leave now? I need to rest."
Marja's face drooped like a sad cat again at my dismissal. Reluctantly, she headed toward the door, put on her heels, gave me one last lingering sorry look over her shoulder, then disappeared behind the door.
Of course, Marja couldn't possibly expect me to act all normal and lovey-dovey with her again as if nothing had happened between us that fast.
I was only human, after all.
The rest of that week went by like I was living in hell.
I didn't leave home at all. I just buried myself in bed, checking my phone constantly like a madwoman, hoping for at least an email or a call or something—anything—from the airline, but nothing came. Every irrelevant notification that dinged on my phone only sent me spiraling into another nervous breakdown.
Then, on Monday morning, an email finally arrived.
Oh wait—no. Not an email. A death sentence.
Dear Kaija Sepala,
[Some irrelevant niceties.]
After careful consideration, Starlight Airlines has decided to nullify your employment contract due to your incompetence during operations, which has caused considerable damage to the company.
You are required to immediately visit headquarters to return your uniform and all company assets to complete the contract termination process.
[More irrelevant niceties.]
In simple terms, I was fired.
How wonderful. How blessed.
All it took was one crying baby distracting me long enough for another crying baby to open a damn door he wasn't supposed to touch!
Just three months in—and wham. Fired, just like that.
The S$50,000 college debt still sat in the bank waiting for me. The money I'd saved would only keep me in this apartment for another two months—if I were to starve until then.
And not just that—I had no idea how I'd even start explaining the whole situation to my mom.
I wondered which word she'd pick to throw in my face this time—clumsy, useless, hopeless, or brainless. Truth be told, that wouldn't even be the worst part. I'd already grown used to hearing those growing up.
The more pressing issue was—how would I explain to her that I'd have to stop sending her stipends for the next few months?
I arrived at headquarters, dragging the company suitcase filled with all the stuff to return, hiding my face carefully under a big hat and sunglasses as I walked in.
Once they'd checked all the assets inside the suitcase, they led me to another room to sign the contract termination agreement.
As I sat reading through the six-page document, the HR manager casually commented, "You wouldn't believe the odds, Kaija dear. It's been twenty years since we last had to process a case like yours."
Her assistant added, "I heard the Flight Safety department just added your case into the training program. Hopefully there won't be any future incidents like this."
Ha. Should I feel proud of myself for contributing that much to the company and possibly the entire aviation industry?
I gave them an innocent smile before scribbling my signature across the pages. I only wanted to get out of that room as quickly as possible. The air was getting a little too suffocating for my taste.
Just as I rose from my chair, the assistant raised a hand. "Wait, Kaija," she said, her tone dripping with mockery, "you can't possibly think that's it, do you? That you could just let such a catastrophe happen, get fired, and walk away so easily?"