Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
He never did say what he was talking about, this big truth he requires, but he doesn’t have to. I know exactly what this is all about, and I’m too tired and too scared to keep pretending.
So I take a deep breath and brace myself. “I guess you already know, don’t you? I’m pregnant. I thought you would be happy about it.”
“Happy? Happy?” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth, his face deep red. “Happy about what? Happy to find out you lied to me again?”
“Lied to you? When did I lie?”
“You hid this from me, which is the same as lying.”
“But it’s not. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”
“The right time? Exactly when the fuck would that be?”
“For one thing, it’s only been a couple of days since I took the test.”
“You should have told me immediately.”
I knew I was taking a risk by keeping this to myself. Somehow, though, it never occurred to me that he’d reach this level of insanity once he got the news.
I should apologize and try to explain myself. So why do I fold my arms instead? Why do I glare back at him? “Right. I forgot you own every part of me. I don’t even get to decide how to tell you we’re going to have a baby. Because you’re like my boss. I was supposed to walk straight up to you and hand you the test and hope I get a bonus this year or something, right? Job well done, pat on the top of my head?”
His lip curls in disgust, like the situation is very different from what I described. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this about you.”
“Right. Because everything is about you!” Now I’m the one threatening to make a big scene. Maybe it’s the fact that we are in public, technically. I’m not as afraid. And he knows I’m carrying his child now, so he’s less likely to hurt me over this. Thinking about that lights a fire in me. “You wouldn’t want to maybe think I needed a day or two to process this for myself.”
He points at my stomach. “That is my child you’re carrying. Mine.”
“And mine.”
“That is not the agreement we made.”
“Of course. Our agreement.” It’s my turn to let out an unhinged laugh. “Maybe you need to get a few things straight. One, I have no control over whether this baby is a boy or a girl, so if it is a girl, I still owe you a son. But this child would still exist—and it would still be yours, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or not. Maybe you’d better wrap your head around that before the kid is born. Second, you are not the one carrying the child. I am. And I wanted a couple of days for it to just be me knowing about it, like a special little secret. I have nothing of my own anymore. Couldn’t I have this for just a couple of days?”
Silence falls between us for a few seconds, and I know I said too much, but it had to be said. He needed to hear it. Was it the complete truth? No, but it was a start.
“Are you finished?” he murmurs. “Because that is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard. We both know what this is about. You don’t want my child, and you never have.”
“That’s not what our agreement was about, is it?” I ask, and it’s almost fun to see him squirm for once. “This is life or death for me, and those are the terms you set. So I think it actually behooves me to get pregnant as quickly as possible and to get this the hell over with or else risk you killing me. I don’t have any reason to hide this from you—and it would be stupid to try.”
“Yet you still tried.”
“Burying a pregnancy test in the trash isn’t exactly the same as trying to hide a pregnancy. If I was that determined, I wouldn’t have thrown it out at home.”
“I deserved to know right away.”
“I’m sorry, that wasn’t one of the terms of our agreement, was it?”
“Did it have to be?” he bellows, throwing his arms into the air.
“Obviously, it did.”
All I want is to tell him the truth. All I want is for him to want me. To still want me even now. That’s what’s bothering me the most; that’s what has my stomach in knots and my chest hurting. Not getting caught—he was going to find out eventually. It’s knowing our relationship as I know it is really over now. And even if the baby is a girl, all he’ll do is rush to impregnate me again. It’ll never be like it was before, like it could have been.
With him acting the way he is, that shouldn’t hurt. I should be glad, but I’m not. I’m about as far from it as possible. It would be so easy just to admit it all, to lay myself bare in front of him here and now. He might be surprised out of his anger.