Page 22

It’s been two days, and I’m not feeling any better. I’m still under the weather, but it’s not something I can pinpoint. It comes and goes, and sometimes it’s nausea, and sometimes it’s dizziness.

Nestor, even though he was reluctant, had to go into the office today. I reassured him I was feeling better, but I’m not.

I’ve been on the internet for the past fifteen minutes searching for my symptoms. And one option keeps popping up even though it’s probably the last thing I need to find out right now.

I might be pregnant.

After another website leads me to a link for buying a pregnancy test, I huff loudly and put my phone down.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I come to the conclusion that since the seed of an idea has been planted, I am not going to stop worrying about it until I take a pregnancy test. At least it will ease my concern.

I can pop in at the pharmacy and even ask the pharmacist what else it might be.

With my mind made up, I climb out of bed and get dressed—might as well do it now.

It’s a twenty-minute drive, which I actually enjoy. I roll the windows down and listen to the sounds of the city, people moving about, on their way to work, grabbing coffee, smiling, scowling, laughing, and talking.

I’ve been cooped up in bed trying to get ‘better,’ but I might not be sick.

I get lucky and find a parking spot right outside the pharmacy.

It’s not too busy inside, and once I’ve found two different types of pregnancy tests, I head to the counter to talk to the lady standing behind it.

She spots what I’m buying and smiles.

“Will that be all for you today?”

“I’ve been feeling a bit weird lately. I looked online and this was the suggested reason, so I’m getting these, but what else could it be?”

She asks me my symptoms and gives me a knowing grin. “That is the best place to start. And I don’t want to suggest anything else until you’ve done that test, because you don’t want to take the wrong meds while being pregnant.”

When she says ‘pregnant’, I glance nervously behind me.

She notices, and her face softens. “Sweetheart, whatever the outcome is, it’ll be okay.

There is a staff bathroom in the back if you want to do the test now, quickly.

It’s not for the public, but I’ll unlock it for you.

Then, if it’s not that, I can see what else I can give you?

Also, you don’t need to do two tests. This one is very realizable. ”

“Thank you, yes, I’d like to do the test now if you don’t mind.”

She shows me where to go and hands me a key from under the counter. I push the swinging door open and walk down a narrow passage to a locked door. My heart is racing with anxiety. My stomach is churning like a washing machine.

Inside is a clean, white-tiled, simple bathroom.

My hands are shaking as I open the packaging and read the instructions. Pee on the stick. Wait three minutes.

I sit on the toilet and hold the end of the little test wand in the stream, then snap the lid on and set it on top of the sink.

Now I wait.

It’s the longest three minutes of my life.

The double lines appear quickly, after only one minute. But my mind still insists on waiting the full three minutes, just in case they are going to disappear. Of course, they don’t. They only become more solid. More glaringly obvious. A definite, unquestionable confirmation.

I am pregnant with Nestor’s child.

Tears spike at the back of my eyes, and I squeeze them closed.

I clean up in the bathroom, throwing everything in the little bin beneath the sink. Okay. Well, at least now I know.

And now I have to decide what to do about what I know.

The pharmacist is very sweet to me and already has a few items prepared for when I come out. “Yes?” she asks, sounding happy for me.

I nod. “Yes.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news,” she says, making me smile. I want it to be wonderful news, but I’m nervous.

“Just in case it was a yes, I got this ready for you. This will help with the dizziness. It’s extra minerals that your body needs right now.

And this will help with the nausea. Unfortunately, it’s a natural part of everything to have some sickness, and some women get it worse than others.

Don’t stop eating. Just have small amounts throughout the day.

And definitely get to a doctor as soon as you can, to make sure everything is good. ”

I listen, and I thank her, then I carry my purchases out in a small brown paper packet clutched in my hand.

My mind is oddly blank, and I realize I’m in shock as I climb back into the car.

I have a million questions racing through my mind.

Nestor will be happy, but not in the way I want him to be happy.

I would love for him to be excited to have a baby with me, but I think for him, it’s more about creating an heir, all because of Miron. I don’t want Miron to be the reason I have a child.

Nestor is so hell-bent on fighting him, on getting revenge against him. It’s like his entire world revolves around his stepbrother at the moment. He doesn’t even have space for me.

After he told me that our relationship should be strictly professional, working on the project together, it broke me.

Especially seeing as I am falling for him. And falling hard.

I tried to tell him I don’t just want sex. I want the sex to mean something. And his solution for that was to say we shouldn’t have sex, then.

I wish I could be happy about carrying his baby, but how can I be?

I want things that don’t seem possible.

For a while, I sit in the parked car, not ready to go home, not knowing where to go.

Until, eventually, I realize I want to speak to my mom. Even when she was sick, she had the best advice. She was a strong woman, even in her pain, and she was gentle and beautiful.

So, I drive to her grave.

She was buried in a little garden area away from the noise of the city. A place where I thought she could find some peace.

The parking area is a walk away from the gravesite, but I take it slowly, enjoying the sun on my face and the cool, fresh air of autumn as it brushes over my cheeks. I push my hands into my pockets and think about everything that’s been happening.

It’s like some unbelievable movie. A made-up story.

One minute I’m working, struggling to get by each day, focused and stressed. Next, I’m kidnapped, married, and living like a princess in a castle.

I grin as I arrive at the garden and push open an ornate iron gate.

There is a smooth rock at the foot of Mom’s grave, and I sit down on it, leaning forward to brush my hand over her headstone. A small, neatly carved stone with her name, years of life, and a quote I chose carved into it.

The light of a loved one’s smile will forever burn in the hearts of those left behind, even long after their death.

“Hi, Mom,” I whisper. “I really miss you.” My words are tight, and a tear rolls down my cheek. I brush it away with the back of my hand, smiling. “I’ve got a lot to tell you. So much has happened lately, that’s why I haven’t visited.”

In the afternoon sunshine, I talk to my mom about everything.

I tell her about what happened with my dad, and how I’ve forgiven him and set boundaries—and I’m really proud of that.

I tell her all about Nestor. How I hated him at first, but now I’ve fallen for him.

And about his mom and his sister. I tell her about how amazing his family is.

And finally, I tell her that I’m pregnant.

Wind whistles gently through the nearby trees in the long moment of silence that follows. I look up at the branches, swaying slowly.

“I wish you could tell me what to do,” I sigh.

More silence.

But in this silence, my lips curl into a smile and my heart warms.

I laugh, and the sound comes out joyful and relaxed.

“I knew you’d help me see things clearly,” I say.

Because suddenly I understand.

I have never been happier in my entire life.

I have never felt more welcome than I do now.

His family has embraced me, made me feel at home, as though I am one of them.

Nestor has been kind and more than generous, and he’s been respectful and caring.

For the first time ever, I feel like I matter. Like I’m special to someone.

My poor mother wanted to give me that, but she was too weak. My father—he was too selfish.

But I have it now.

I have a family.

A family I will fight for and do anything to keep.

“Thank you, Mom,” I say excitedly as I stand up and pull my phone from my pocket.

As I walk back through the garden, enjoying nature and everything around me, I dial Nestor.

It rings once before he answers.

“Hello, little one, how are you feeling? Do you need me to come home?” he asks quickly.

“No, I’m doing a lot better. I, um, I am looking forward to you coming home, though,” I say hesitantly.

There is a slight pause.

“You are?” he asks. I wonder what he thinks when I say that. I want to tell him I’ve come to understand that I’m crazy in love with him, but it will be so silly if he doesn’t feel the same.

“I am. How is your day going?”

“Mm. Well, I’ve got a bit to sort out here before I can get away, some things went south.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work,” I say nervously.

He chuckles, a beautiful sound that rumbles through the phone. “No, little one. I love your interruptions. Are you out somewhere?”

What does that mean? I can’t help the massive smile that spreads over my face.

“I am walking in a very pretty garden. I came to visit my mom’s grave. But I’m headed home now.”

“That’s sweet. I’m glad you’re feeling better, then. It’s a gorgeous day to be outside in nature.”

My heart somersaults.

“I have something to tell you,” I say, excitement shooting through me.

“Oh really, what is it?” I can hear the smile in his words.

“No, not over the phone. We can talk when you get home.”

“Should I bring takeout?”

“Yes, I’m craving chow mein.”

“Excellent choice. I don’t know how you expect me to be patient waiting to hear what you want to say.”

“You’ll just have to be,” I giggle.

We talk a little while longer before I hear a lot of noise in the background, and I know he has to go, even though he sounds reluctant to end the call.

My heart is singing, walking the rest of the way back to the car.

What I’m sensing from him, and what I now understand about how I feel, it’s real. Maybe we were both just scared to be the first to say something. But he wouldn’t treat me like that if he didn’t care about me.

And maybe once we talk about things and explore the possibilities, he will even grow to love me.

It’s strange how earlier I didn’t want to go home, because I felt lost and unsure. And now all I want is to be there, with him, wrapped in his arms.

I climb into the driver’s side and drop my phone into the passenger seat, humming a song my mother used to hum to me when I was little. I start the car, and it growls to life as I pull out of the parking area, turning onto the road that leads back home.

I can’t wait to tell Nestor. It’s a conversation I want to have face-to-face, though. He’s going to be so excited about being a father.

And then I’ll tell him how I feel.

I’m certain, but nervous. A happy kind of nervous.

A car skids out onto the road in front of me, and I slam on the brakes as I smash into it, the seatbelt cutting into my shoulder when I’m thrown forward.

A scream of fright shoots from my lips as my face hits the airbag that explodes from the steering wheel.

The wind is knocked forcefully from my lungs, and I gasp for breath, grasping blindly to unclip the safety belt constricting me.

It snaps free, and I push the door open, spilling from the car, wondering if the other driver is okay. My feet are unsteady, and I clutch onto the side of the car, my eyes wide in disbelief, staring at the damage.

My heart is racing, my head is spinning. I squint into the driver’s side of the other car. Suddenly, everything goes dark, and I realize someone has thrown a bag over my head.

A new form of panic hits me as I’m lifted off the ground, kicking and screaming, fighting for my life.

I lash out, clawing at anything I can reach.

A man swears at me.

“Fuck’s sake, bitch, do you want me to fucking punch your lights out?” he snarls in anger.

Another man laughs. “Throw her in the trunk, let’s get out of here.”

“Tell the boss we have her.”

“Let’s go.”

I’m thrown into a hot, small space, and the trunk is slammed shut. I pull the hood off my head, gasping for air, my eyes watering, my lungs still burning from the accident.

The car starts, and I’m trapped, with no idea where I’m going or what is going to happen to me. And all I can think about is him.

I need him.

I need Nestor.