Page 54 of Accidental Mile High Vows

Pregnant.

The thought sends a jolt through me.

But if she’s pregnant, why didn’t she tell me? Why go to a clinic during lunch without saying anything?

My phone rings forty minutes later. It’s Silas.

“Talk to me.”

“Got the information. Had to put a gun to the doctor’s head, but he talked.”

“And?”

“She’s pregnant. Six weeks. The doctor confirmed it with a test and an ultrasound. Gave her prenatal vitamins and a follow-up appointment.”

I sink into my chair.

“Boss? You there?”

“Yeah. I’m here.” My voice sounds far away. “Where is she now?”

“Left the clinic about twenty minutes ago. Hasn’t gone back to work. Pedro is tailing her, but she’s just driving around the city in a cab.”

“Send me her location. I’m going to her apartment.”

“You sure that’s a good idea? She doesn’t know we’ve been following her.”

“I don’t care. She’s carrying my child and didn’t tell me. We’re having this conversation now.”

I hang up and grab my jacket. On the way out, I text Pedro.

Keep following her. Let me know when she heads home.

The drive to her apartment takes twenty minutes through traffic that makes me want to put my fist through the windshield. I’m thrilled. Terrified. Furious. All at once.

A baby.

Savannah is pregnant with my baby, and she didn’t tell me.

Did she think I wouldn’t want it? That I’d be angry? After everything we’ve been through, after telling her I love her, after making her my wife properly, does she really think I wouldn’t want our child?

Or is she scared? Planning to handle this alone because she’s still holding on to that independence she convinced me to give her?

I park outside her building and take the elevator up to her floor. The apartment is empty when I let myself in with the key she doesn’t know I have. I’ve had it since the day she moved in.

Necessary precaution. That’s what I told myself. Except now it feels like proof that I don’t trust her. That I need control over every aspect of her life.

Maybe she’s right to keep secrets from me.

I sit on her couch and wait. Check my phone every thirty seconds. Pedro sends updates.

Still driving. Heading toward Brooklyn now.

Turned around. Coming back to Manhattan.

Five minutes from her building.

I stand and move to the windows. Watch the street below. See a cab pull up. See her get out, moving slowly, like she’s carrying the weight of the world.