Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Yeah, right.” I stand up abruptly and the world spins. A strong sense of nausea hits me and I clutch my stomach from the force of it.
Adrian is by my side in a second, grabbing me by the arm. “Lia? What is it…?”
“I think I’m going to throw up,” I manage between gritted teeth.
Adrian lifts me in his arms and hurries to the bathroom, then carefully helps me lower myself in front of the toilet. I grab it and empty my dinner in violent heaves.
Strong hands stroke my back in soothing circles as my stomach releases ugly sounds.
By the time I finish, Adrian is crouching by my side and says with utter calm, “Let’s get you to the doctor.”
“Why?”
“I think you’re pregnant.”
25
Lia
I stare at the small gray dot on the ultrasound monitor, my lips parting.
Adrian was right. I am pregnant. Five weeks.
First, the OB-GYN confirmed it through a blood test, and she’s now showing us the baby.
I’ve been shocked, numb, like the day I got out of surgery to learn I could no longer be a ballerina.
But the moment I see that life? Something inside me shifts.
At first, I wanted to demand an abortion because of ballet. But I don’t have ballet anymore, and whether I have children or not will have no effect on my ended career.
But now, as I watch the tiny figure on the screen, strong feelings like I haven’t had since the day my career ended invade me all at once.
That baby is mine. Something I conceived.
A tenacious life which survived all the stress I’ve been through up until now.
I stare up at Adrian, who’s standing next to my hospital bed, also observing what will soon grow into a fetus, in his utter calm. He’s been like a rock during this entire night—carrying me, taking care of procedures, and being the anchor anyone would hope for.
However, he hasn’t shown a single reaction since the doctor confirmed his suspicion. Although it wasn’t really a suspicion since he announced it before the doctor did.
My eyes widen. Did he…do this on purpose?
The thought thunders through the rest of me like wildfire. When I told the doctor that I’m on birth control pills, she mentioned that the pill isn’t one hundred percent effective, especially if I didn’t take it at the same time every day.
But pregnancy would’ve been so much more probable if he actually switched my pills out.
The feelings I was basking in only a few seconds ago slowly evaporate as I focus on the man standing beside me. And not just any man, a killer and a mobster. I can’t let someone like him father my children. How the hell did I allow myself to be even the slightest bit happy about the idea?
The doctor offers me the sonogram picture, but I don’t take it, afraid to look at that life one more time. Adrian thanks her, pulling it from her hand. I go through the motions as I cover myself and grab my crutch to stand up.
Adrian tries to help me, but I squirm free. He gives me a look and grabs me by the elbow, forbidding me from getting away from him until he helps me into a chair in front of the doctor’s desk.
Instead of taking his own seat, he remains standing by my side. “Is her injury going to cause a problem with the pregnancy?”
The doctor, a middle-aged lady with soft features and her white hair done in a pixie cut, says in a melodious voice, “Not at all. Thankfully, the injury didn’t happen during one of her late trimesters. When do you get the cast off, Ms. Morelli?”
“In three weeks,” I murmur.
“It should be fine, but until then, please pay extra attention to your stress levels. The first pregnancies are usually the most fragile.”
Adrian gives a curt nod, schedules an upcoming appointment, and leads me out of the office.
I pull away from him as soon as we’re down the hall, hobbling as fast as my crutch allows me to do so.
He catches up to me, grabs me by the waist, and glues me to his side. Then he speaks in a low, threatening tone, “That’s the second and final time you flinch away from me. And walk slowly so you don’t put too much pressure on your leg.”
“Stop it,” I hiss, twisting against him.
“Stop what?”
“Stop acting like the most caring person alive when you planned this all along.”
“This?”
I halt near a fire escape staircase and point a finger at the envelope in his hand. “You switched my pills to make that happen.”
His expression remains the same, as if I didn’t say anything. “You were pregnant before I had to do that.”
My lips part. “You…you planned it?”
“Yes.”
“You really switched my pills?”
“I said I didn’t have to. As the doctor said, birth control pills aren’t a hundred percent effective.”