Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Well, no,” I say with a pout.
“Are you pouting?”
“Doesn’t a woman who’s maybe pregnant have a right to pout?”
I wouldn’t have chosen this, not on a bet.
“Then why do you look that way?”
“Nausea,” I respond. “Doubts.”
“Ahh. There’s nothing to fear, Aria. No matter what, I will take care of you.”
Easy for him to say. He isn’t the one potentially carrying human life in his womb.
He stands reluctantly outside the door when I pee on the strip, then practically bangs it down when he hears me flush.
“Your impatience won’t make the test result come any sooner,” I tell him, but he ignores me, of course, and just walks into the bathroom and stares at it, as if willing it to reveal two pink lines. The timer on his phone ticks.
I’m a little scared of his reaction if it’s positive. Will he wrap me in bubble wrap or confine me to bed?
I’m a little scared of his reaction if it’s negative.
Will that mean I’ve failed?
One minute passes. I feel nauseous again at the second minute, and by the time the third minute’s over, I’m swallowing hard to keep the remaining contents of my belly down.
I don’t even know how to tell him I’m not sure what I want the test to say.
Pregnant? With the mafia lord’s child? Destined to be raised wealthy, yes, and loved, absolutely, but — into a world of crime and violence?
Or…not pregnant.
Mikhail’s fallen expression tells me my answer before I even look. “I’m not, am I?” I ask in a little voice.
He shakes his head.
I expect nothing but relief but I’m surprised to find I’m…also disappointed. I sigh. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. Am I?
I don’t ever remember being so conflicted over anything in my life.
Am I sorry that he’s disappointed?
Wordlessly, we clean the bathroom. I toss the negative test into the trash bin and wash my hands. I try to conjure up a feeling of relief, but it’s…mixed.
“How are you feeling?” he asks me.
“Hungry, honestly. Oh, wait, is that what you meant, though?” Does he mean emotionally?
“Yes, all of it. How are you feeling?”
“I’m…not sure.”
Relieved? Disappointed?
“I’ll get you breakfast. We need you better for tonight, because it’s crucial we get you there.”
It feels so good to lie down. A buzz sounds on my phone.
Polina: Can’t wait for tonight! You ready?
Feeling not so great, honestly. Maybe something I ate?
No! Oh, I’m so sorry. Make that brother of mine get you something to eat.
I snort. As if anyone could “make” Mikhail do anything.
He’s already getting me something, though.
I bite my lip when he leaves the room to get us breakfast. Should I tell her?
Why not?
Honestly? I just took a pregnancy test.
OH MY GOD. Annnddd??
Negative. I think…no, I know Mikhail is very disappointed.
Oh, it will happen. Sometimes it doesn’t show up right away on a test! Are you late?
Yes.
Test again tomorrow! I’ll bring things for you tonight. Stuff that will help. My bestie is pregnant and I know all about it!
Thank you! Good luck!
Sometimes it doesn’t show up right away….
Yikes. I need to check again, and soon.
Pregnant.
Pregnant.
What would a baby with Mikhail look like? Would he or she have those deep, dark eyes and charming personality?
I actually manage to snicker to myself.
I sit up in bed, grateful for the food when Mikhail brings in a tray of buttered toast, scrambled eggs, thick bacon, and a fruit bowl.
“Eat, Aria. Try at least three bites.”
I grunt. I’m not sure I want to. But the look he gives me dares me to push him, and I’m starting to become honestly…pretty aware of when he wants me to do something.
“Aria,” he warns.
“Would you really force a pregnant woman to obey you?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes. And you’re not pregnant.”
“Yet,” I mutter, as I take a triangle of toast and bite the edge.
His eyes crinkle around the edges, a rare sight that does funny things to my heart. I swallow.
“You stay and rest in bed for a little while. I’ll check on you and then we can make a plan for tonight.”
I sigh. I don’t want to stay in bed, but he has a point, and I know he won’t budge, either.
“Can you pretty please bring me my laptop though?”
“Which one?”
It’s a fair question. I’ve maybe gone a little crazy with that credit card.
“Hmm. The rose gold one, please.”
I maybe had a little fun with that.
While he gets the laptop, I head to the closet to get something comfy to wear. I still feel a little guilty going into this closet. I never had anything like this in my life, and now I have more than I could’ve ever imagined. If my mother saw me now…I pull out a pair of soft white sweats and a hoodie when a garment bag catches my attention.
I peek at the dress hidden behind a blanket of plastic, hanging right in front. Is this…oh, wow. Okay, so this is the dress he got me for the gala. I lift the plastic to take a peek.