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And I don’t think I could survive him not seeing it my way. Seconds pass, and I hear his footsteps retreating. My eyes snap to the doorknob, heart pounding, half expecting it to turn again, half hoping it will.
Because despite my fears, a part of me wants him to find out.
But that part of me also wants roses and love—two things I’ll never get from Roman.
A minute passes. Then another. And the weight in my chest presses harder.
Finally, my knees buckle, giving out beneath me, and I slide to the floor, back against the door, as the dam inside me breaks. I slap a trembling hand over my mouth, desperate to muffle the sob that claws its way up my throat, raw and violent and aching.
I drag myself to bed again, but the covers remain on the floor as I curl into a tight ball, my shirt wet with tears.
This time, it’s impossible to close my eyes. I stay awake for hours until my stomach begins to grumble. Food.
“No,” I sniff. “No, you don’t want food. You want a solution to your problem, Isabella. You want it to go away magically.”
My stomach rumbles again, louder this time. Right. I barely held down my breakfast, and I haven’t eaten for hours. If I’m going to really find a solution, I need some food first.
Summoning my last shreds of strength, I swing my legs, wobbling as I try to stand.
“One after the other, Isabella,” I murmur, offering myself a pep talk. It gets me to the door, and I open it, stepping into the corridor, only to find Roman leaning against the wall, one leg bent at the knee and his arms folded.
“What are you hiding?” he questions, pushing away from the wall.
“H-hiding?” I stutter as I take a step back.
“Yes.” His voice is calm—too calm. “Hiding, Bella. You’ve been cooped up behind that door for hours, and I could hear you muttering to yourself.” He takes a step closer. I take one back, glancing over my shoulder to see how far I’ve gotten from my room.
Only a couple of steps.
I shake my head. “I was tired. Is that so hard to believe?”
Roman tuts. “Have I ever told you that you have a tell?”
“Tell?” My brows scrunch.
“When you lie to me, Isabella, I can tell. It’s almost as if it’s written on your face.” He walks even closer, and I forget how to move as his eyes darken, pinning me to the spot. “What is it? Did you finally get in touch with your father? Are you planning on running away again?”
Why didn’t I think of that? Running away.
Oh,wait.I snort loudly, earning an arched eyebrow from him. I did think about it, when I stood outside the hospital, but I was too much of a coward to do it.
Perhaps I should’ve toughed it out on that farm. It was only a couple hours of heat and the worst rain I’d ever been caught in, but I might’ve survived.
“Isabella?”
My room. I turn, bolting as fast as I can, but Roman has his foot stuck in the doorway before I can close the door.
“Move your foot,” I hiss, leaning into the door with all my weight.
“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” Roman says from the other side, his voice still maddeningly calm but edged with something intense. He’s not about to take no for an answer. “Leo said you were sick. Are you?”
Fuck.“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. “I’m pregnant, okay? I felt nauseous at breakfast, and I had Leo drive me to the hospital to get a blood test because I suspected that it was something more than the food. So yeah…” I move away, letting the door swing open.
I face him, directing my anger straight to the source. “I am pregnant with your baby, Roman. Just like you wanted. Are you happy now?”
My chest heaves as the words leave my mouth, and I wait, crossing my arms, for his reply. “What?” I bite out. “You’ve got nothing?”
“My baby,” he breathes, taking me by surprise. “You’re pregnant.”