Page 17

I sat in my car, my heart hammering in my chest as the weight of the decision I'd be forced to make in the next few minutes set in. It was all that I could think of—the possibility of the baby in my womb.

Nothing had ever spooked me like this, not even my marriage to Erik Tarasov. If this was true, if I was indeed carrying a mini Tarasov within me, then I was fucked. The baby would change everything because then, we would be bound together by the very life we'd created.

My pulse quickened, my breath hitched in my throat, and I could feel the cold sweat on my skin.

What will you do if it turns out that you're pregnant? a small voice whispered in my head, fueling my fear and anxiety. Would you keep it?

This question struck me like lightning, disorienting my thoughts and leaving me both helpless and breathless. My mind was a mess of tangled webs, producing nothing helpful, nothing but fear and anxiety. I was too numb to think, and a dull ache plagued my head.

I messaged my temples, my fingertips digging into my flesh in a soothing motion. “You got this,” I mumbled under my breath and raised my head.

My gaze flew to the rearview mirror, where I looked at my reflection. My shoulders slumped in mental exhaustion. My dark glasses concealed my eyes, which were swollen and red with bags under them from lack of sleep.

I was draped in an all-black ensemble—a black scarf over my head and knotted loosely around my neck and a pair of fitted black pants under a black top.

The idea was to be hidden, unnoticed, hence the reason I chose this terrible disguise to mask my identity.

I stared in the mirror, barely recognizing my own face, shrouded by the fabrics of my scarf and the dark shades that concealed my eyes. My hand reached out, fingers adjusting the rearview mirror for a better look at myself.

The car's cabin was silent like the graveyard, with only the sound of my labored breaths filling the air. I was overwhelmed by my own nervousness, and it was like the harder I tried to calm the bloody hell down, the more anxious I became.

I drew a deep breath—in through my nose, out through my mouth. For the next few seconds, I repeated the gesture over and over again until I started to feel a small sense of calm. My anxiety dissipated as I let it flow out with the air I exhaled.

Once I felt a little better, I glanced at my watch; the doctor must be waiting, considering I was already running late for my appointment.

I released a heavy sigh, bracing myself for whatever the outcome of this might be. “Here goes nothing,” I murmured, snatching the black jacket lying on the front passenger seat.

I took a fleeting moment to summon the courage I needed and opened the car door.

Stepping out onto the hospital's parking lot, my black outfit seemed to absorb the sunlight around me, and my shades shielded me from its rays. I slammed the car door shut, sweeping my gaze across the surrounding area as if to make sure I wasn't being followed.

With an effortless move, I slid into the tailored black jacket that added a touch of sophistication to my outfit. My black pumps clicked softly on the pavement as I headed toward the entrance.

I pushed the door and walked into the waiting room—a hive of quiet activities, filled with the soft hum of murmured conversations. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee from a nearby machine wafted through the air, teasing my senses.

The cream-colored walls and plush beige furniture created a soothing atmosphere as a few people sat scattered around the room, their faces etched with anxiety and worry.

My heart skipped a beat when I set eyes on a young woman, no older than I was, trying to corral her rambunctious toddler. The idea that this could be me in the next few months if it turned out that I was pregnant scared the living daylight out of me.

To my left, an elderly man flipped through the pages of a worn copy of Time magazine. He was seated with his legs crossed, exuding an air of calmness, a stark contrast to everyone else in the room.

Suddenly, as I navigated through the waiting room, a warm voice called out, “Tessa?”

First things first, how the bloody hell did someone recognize me in this disguise? I guess I did a terrible job of masking my identity. But hold on, that voice sounded rather familiar.

I stopped in my tracks and raised my head, and there she was, her full lips curling into a bright smile as she held my gaze. Her light brown doe eyes sparkled with mirth, and her hazelnut brown hair framed her heart-shaped face.

My fingers reflexively plucked off my dark shades, and my brows arched in belief. “Clarice?”

“Oh, my goodness, it is you!” she replied, beaming with a radiant smile, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached me.

Clarice Evelyn was an old friend of mine from school, and I hadn't seen her in ages.

She hugged me, her arms around me and mine around her. We took a moment to bask in each other's warm embrace, the blend of our perfumes filling the air.

We let go and, with uncontrollable smiles, watched each other in awe and amusement.

“My God! How long has it been?” She laughed lightly, her eyes shining with excitement.

“Long enough.” I chuckled, struggling to maintain the genuineness in my smile as I felt it starting to wear off. “How are you, Clarice?” I asked immediately, masking my distraction.

“I'm doing great, thanks!” she answered, her voice laced with a kind of happiness that I wished I had.

Clarice was still as vibrant as I remembered, still as pretty, and obviously still as perceptive, considering that she recognized me at one glance.

“What about you? How've you been?” she asked, her smile broadening, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes.

I retained my grin, though, on the inside, I was anything but calm. I couldn’t exactly say I've been fine, except for the fact that I've never been good enough for my dad, no matter how hard I tried. And then, when the family business hit rock bottom, he sold me out to the devil himself. The arranged marriage benefitted the family and saved the empire but ruined my life.

Oh! It also turns out that the devil I married is a manipulative bastard who snaked his way into my heart and eventually into my pants. He took my virginity, and while I was thinking that maybe he wasn't such a bad guy, he went around flirting with some other woman.

As if that wasn't enough, now I think I might be pregnant by the same man who messed up my life.

In reality, I mustered a smile that seemed awkwardly genuine. My response was calm and smooth, masking the tension brewing within me. “I've been good, too.” I let that grin spread across my face, my head slightly nodding as if trying to convince myself to believe my claims. “So, uh…what're you doing here?” I changed the subject, scratching the back of my head.

“Oh, I'm actually here for a checkup,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she announced. “I’m studying to become a psychologist, you know.” Her voice was tinged with enthusiasm.

“Wow! That's incredible,” I said, feeling genuinely happy for her.

At least she got to do what she wanted with her life, unlike me.

“Yeah, I love learning about….”

And just like that, Clarice's voice droned on. I could see her lips moving, her hands flying emphatically in the air, but my mind had drifted away from the conversation.

Clarice, on the other hand, was oblivious to my distraction. She continued to chat, her words bubbling forth like a cheerful brook, making me feel guilty about not being mentally present.

“What about you? What're you doing here?” Her question snapped me back to reality.

“Uh…same,” I said. Then, I added almost immediately, “The checkup part, of course, not the psychology part.”

She chuckled, her laugh quiet and innocent as she appeared caught up in her enthusiasm. “Well, it was nice meeting you again, Tessa.” She glanced at her watch.

“You, too, Clarice,” I replied, trying to match her vibrant tone.

“We should catch up soon,” she proposed, raising her brows in anticipation. “Maybe over coffee?”

I flashed a faint grin. “That would be nice.”

“Great.” Her grin widened.

We exchanged numbers, and she hugged me one more time before stepping away. “Bye, Tess.”

I wiggled my fingers in her direction. “Bye, Clarice.”

The moment she turned around and left, my anxiety returned as I continued to the gynecology ward. The reality of my situation settled in like a cold shroud, stealing my fleeting moment of bliss and, eventually, my breath.

I clasped my shades back on and continued my journey until I got to the ward.

Waiting for the doctor's arrival was the worst part. I sat on the bed in the sterile white room, under the soft glow and the deafening silence that seemed to echo off the walls. My heart was pounding in my slowly heaving chest as I struggled against the overwhelming nervousness.

The air was heavy with the smell of disinfectant, its pungent scent mingling with the sweet tang of antiseptic wipes.

I lowered my head and buried my face in my palms, wondering how much longer I'd have to endure this terrible suspense.

Then I heard the door open behind me, and my heart sank into my chest as I turned in the direction.

“So sorry for the delay,” Dr. Sharon Henderson said, strolling into the ward. “There was an emergency with a patient in the ER.” She adjusted her wire-rimmed glass and halted in front of me.

“It's fine,” came my calm, whispered reply, a faint grin twitching at the corners of my lips.

By now, I'd done away with my mask—scarf and oversized dark shades.

“Let's get to it, shall?” she said, ready to begin.

I heaved a sigh and let her do her thing as I struggled to stay composed despite the turmoil and chaos within me.

With practiced ease, she performed a rapid series of tests, her sharp eyes scanning my charts from behind her glasses as she worked.

The examination was quicker than I expected, leaving me somewhat dazed. It was a rapid pregnancy test that involved Dr. Sharon Henderson taking my blood sample. I observed her conducting some tests with her equipment, and within the next five minutes, she was finished.

She halted in front of me, her gaze darting across the chart in her hand.

“And…?” I asked, my eyes widening, anxiety and curiosity flickering in their depths.

She raised her head and announced, “It's positive. There's life in your womb. You're pregnant.”

Sharon's words dropped like a bombshell, disorienting me. The confirmation sent my mind reeling, my thoughts crashing against each other like waves in a storm.

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, like my breath had been knocked out of me.

Sharon's previous smile faltered as she sensed my unease. “What're you gonna do now?” she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I stared at her, my lips quivering with fear, tears as tears brimmed my eyes. My mind spun with confusion, and I struggled to pull myself together. “I don't know. I'll need to think about it.”

My voice trembled under the weight of my predicament.

“Sure. Take your time and return when you're ready to make a decision.” She beamed an encouraging smile at me and then patted my shoulder before leaving.

This was a terrible situation that left me with two difficult decisions: to keep the baby or not to keep the baby. I couldn't bring myself to decide at that moment; my mind was too overwhelmed for that.

Honestly, I'd always wanted children, always wanted to be a mom. But this pact with Erik made the entire situation super complicated.

He wasn't exactly a father figure, and that terrified me. Keeping this baby would mean voluntarily binding myself to Erik forever. Did I want that? Was this even the best time to welcome a child into such a family? Was I ready to be a mother at this time in my life? Was I ready for that responsibility?

When I returned home, the sun had already set, and the mansion was unusually quiet at this time of the evening. It was dark in the living room, and the moment I turned the lights on, my heart skipped a beat, and my breath hitched in my throat.

Erick was seated alone on a sofa, hands resting on the arms, and his legs were crossed, one over the other. His expression was dark, and his piercing green eyes were pinned on me. As he gazed at me with an intimidating glare, his presence filled the room with a heavy tension that made my legs turn to jelly.

“Where were you?” he questioned, his voice low and malicious, dripping with a hint of suspicion.

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening and my heart hammering in my chest as my mind still reeled from the doctor's words. However, I reminded myself to remain calm, knowing this was about to take a dangerous turn.