“Did you come alone to the consultation?” the obstetrician asked while reviewing my file.
“And the baby’s father?”
I leaned back in the chair and answered in the most casual tone I could manage.
“Doctor, I only borrowed the genetics.”
The doctor looked up.
“I’m keeping the baby. Not the father.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
And right behind me…
A man’s cold laugh sounded.
“Borrowed?”
My entire body froze.
Slowly, I turned around.
And there he was.
Adrian Cole.
The man I had secretly loved for four years in college.
The man who had been my impossible dream.
The man I had spent years convincing myself I had forgotten.
And the man whose child was growing inside me.
His eyes moved from my face.
Down to my still-flat stomach.
Then back to me.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
“Claire.”
My heart sank.
“Was my genetics only worth ten dollars?”
Two months earlier, everything had started because of a stupid game.
It was my classmate’s birthday party.
A private karaoke room in Manhattan.
Too much alcohol.
Too much laughter.
Too many people making ridiculous challenges.
Then someone pointed at me.
“Claire, your turn.”
I already knew I should refuse.
But everyone was laughing.
So I agreed.
The challenge sounded harmless.
“Go outside and ask the first attractive man you see for his belt.”
The entire room exploded with laughter.
I rolled my eyes.
“You’re all ridiculous.”
But I still walked out.
Because that was always my problem.
I was terrible at saying no.
The hallway was quiet.
A few meters away, a man stood with his back toward me.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Perfectly fitted dark shirt.
Even from behind, he looked impossible to ignore.
I walked toward him.
My face was burning.
“Excuse me…”
He didn’t turn.
I swallowed.
“I lost a game.”
Finally, the man looked over.
And my entire body stopped.
Adrian.
Adrian Cole.
My old professor.
My first love.
My impossible love.
Four years of college.
Four years of secretly loving him.
He was the youngest professor in our department.
Brilliant.
Calm.
Untouchable.
And I was the stupid girl who always found excuses to be near him.
I brought him coffee.
I asked questions I already knew the answers to.
I stayed after class.
I volunteered for projects just because he was supervising them.
Everyone knew.
Everyone.
“Claire Bennett is in love with Professor Cole.”
The whole campus knew.
Except maybe Adrian.
Or maybe he knew and simply didn’t care.
The day I finally understood the truth was still painful.
I had left a latte on his desk.
It was something small.
Something stupid.
But I had spent twenty minutes choosing the right flavor.
When Adrian walked into class, almost one hundred students were watching.
He picked up the coffee.
I smiled.
I thought he understood.
Then he walked to the front row.
And handed it to another student.
“Thank you for the gesture.”
His voice was polite.
Too polite.
“But I only drink American coffee.”
A few people laughed.
I froze.
“I don’t like latte.”
More laughter.
“And I hope certain people stop bringing things I don’t need.”
The classroom became unbearable.
Everyone knew.
Everyone looked at me.
I couldn’t stay.
I left before the lecture ended.
Outside, snow was falling.
I walked across campus crying.
And I made a promise.
I would never chase someone who didn’t love me again.
Years passed.
I built my career.
I moved on.
Or at least, I convinced myself I did.
Then that night happened.
The night I walked into room V18 to return his belt.
I expected to hand it over and leave.
Nothing more.
But when I entered, Adrian was there.
His friends noticed me.
One of them smiled.
“Adrian, you know her?”
Before I could answer no…
He spoke.
“Yeah.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Claire is a friend.”
Friend.
The word surprised me.
Since when?
But before I could think about it, someone pulled me into the celebration.
It was his birthday.
I hadn’t known.
After singing, Adrian cut a piece of cake.
And somehow…
He offered it to me.
A person bumped into my back.
I fell forward.
Directly into him.
The cake landed on his shirt.
“Oh my God.”
I panicked.
“I’m sorry.”
I grabbed a napkin.
“I’m really sorry.”
I started cleaning his clothes.
Then his hand caught mine.
I froze.
The noise around us disappeared.
Adrian looked down at me.
His voice was lower than usual.
“Claire.”
My throat tightened.
“Yes?”
His eyes darkened.
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
My heartbeat became impossible to control.
Because for the first time…
I didn’t see a professor.
I saw a man.
That night changed everything.
Neither of us was sober enough to drive.
We shared a taxi.
Then an elevator.
Then a hotel room.
I still remembered every second.
His first kiss.
The taste of wine.
The way he said my name.
The way years of distance suddenly disappeared.
For one night…
I wasn’t the girl who had loved him secretly.
I was the woman standing in front of him.
And he wasn’t the unreachable professor.
He was Adrian.
Just Adrian.
The next morning, reality returned.
I woke up.
He was sleeping beside me.
Sunlight fell across his face.
For a few seconds, I was twenty years old again.
That girl who believed miracles happened.
Then I remembered.
He never loved me.
Not really.
And I refused to stay and hear him call it a mistake.
So I dressed.
Quietly.
Before leaving, I transferred ten dollars to his account.
And wrote:
“Last night was an accident. This is compensation.”
Then I added:
“Also, I have a boyfriend.”
A lie.
A ridiculous lie.
But it protected my pride.
Then I blocked him.
I thought that was the end.
Until six weeks later…
Two lines appeared on a pregnancy test.
My world changed.
I stared at the result for a long time.
There was no panic.
Only one thought.
I was going to have this baby.
I didn’t need Adrian.
I didn’t need his money.
I didn’t need his sympathy.
I could raise my child alone.
So when the doctor asked about the father…
I joked.
“I borrowed the genetics.”
I never expected him to hear.
Now, in the examination room, Adrian stood in front of me.
The doctor looked between us.
“You two know each other?”
Neither of us answered.
Adrian did the math silently.
The date.
The weeks.
The night.
Everything.
Then he smiled.
A dangerous smile.
“Interesting.”
My fingers tightened.
“Adrian…”
He looked at me.
“So.”
His voice was quiet.
“Tell me about this boyfriend.”
My throat went dry.
Because there was one problem.
The boyfriend never existed.
The doctor awkwardly left the room.
The moment the door closed, Adrian crossed his arms.
“You lied.”
I looked away.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I laughed softly.
“Because saying I was alone felt humiliating.”
His expression changed.
“You thought I would think less of you?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
A pause.
“I thought you would feel sorry for me.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
For the first time, Adrian Cole looked wounded.
“You really think that little of me?”
I smiled sadly.
“Adrian.”
“Four years ago, I gave you my feelings.”
“You returned them in front of everyone.”
Silence.
His jaw tightened.
“I was your professor.”
“You were also the man I loved.”
He had no answer.
The next day, Adrian appeared at my apartment.
I opened the door and froze.
“What are you doing here?”
He held a bag.
“Breakfast.”
I stared.
“You don’t need to do this.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
His answer was simple.
“Because I should have done it two months ago.”
I expected him to suddenly become perfect.
He wasn’t.
Adrian was still Adrian.
Quiet.
Proud.
Awkward with emotions.
But he tried.
He came to appointments.
He learned about pregnancy.
He read every parenting book he could find.
He stood outside my apartment when I was sick.
He never asked me to forgive him.
That surprised me.
Because Adrian finally understood something.
Love wasn’t proven by grand gestures.
It was proven by staying.
One night, while we were sitting outside after a doctor’s appointment, he finally told me the truth.
“Do you know why I rejected you back then?”
I looked at him.
“Because you didn’t like me.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
I was surprised.
“I was afraid.”
I laughed.
“You?”
“Yes.”
He looked away.
“You were my student.”
“I knew if I accepted your feelings, everyone would think I abused my position.”
“So I pushed you away.”
“Too harshly.”
A pause.
“I thought if I hurt you enough, you would forget me.”
I looked at him.
“You succeeded.”
His eyes darkened.
“Did I?”
I looked down at my stomach.
“No.”
Months later, our daughter was born.
Adrian cried.
Actually cried.
The same man who had stood in front of hundreds of students without emotion…
Couldn’t stop tears when he held his daughter.
“She’s so small.”
I smiled.
“She’s yours.”
He looked at me.
“No.”
His voice was soft.
“She’s ours.”
A year later, people still joked about the ten dollars.
Because Adrian never let me forget it.
One day, he placed an envelope in front of me.
I opened it.
Inside was ten dollars.
And a note.
“I am returning what you paid.”
I laughed.
“What is this?”
He smiled.
“Interest.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“How much?”
He took my hand.
“A lifetime.”
I once told a doctor I only borrowed Adrian Cole’s genetics.
I thought he was nothing more than a biological connection.
A mistake.
A memory I wanted to bury.
But I was wrong.
Because sometimes the person you think is only part of your past…
Is the person who has been waiting for the right moment to become your future.
I thought I borrowed his genetics.
But in the end, he gave me something much more valuable.
A family.
