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Then, just as she hung up the phone, I pushed myself into the room, acting like nothing had happened on either end.
“Got your water for you,” I said.
And the startled look on her face told me everything I needed to know. Olivia was hiding something.
Holy shit, Brittany had been right.
23
Olivia
I sat at my desk and took in a deep breath. I had two entire days before my trip to Europe with Brett, and I still hadn’t figured out a way to tell him I was pregnant. Something had changed between us Sunday morning. The air had been tense when he’d come back into the room. Had he overheard the conversation with Daniel? I really hoped not. I didn’t want his feelings to get hurt. It was obvious the two of them didn’t like each other, and I didn’t want there to be any more tension bred in that situation. If Daniel didn’t want Brett coming to our meetings, then I didn’t have to bring him. I felt strong enough to stand on my own two feet with the man anyway. It wasn’t as if I was a pushover or anything. I was keeping my guard up, just in case.
If I had to be honest, I felt like I was making some headway with my biological father.
We’d been talking on the phone every night after I got off work. I’d update him on my day, and he’d tell me about some things he got up to in the city. How he went by to see Mom and shake Bernard’s hand. How he had actually spoken with Mike, who was apparently backpacking through Brazil at the moment. He’d even gotten himself a prepaid phone so that Mike could send him pictures of his journey.
I enjoyed talking on the phone with him, and it made me look forward to the lunch we had planned for tomorrow.
I figured that if I couldn’t bring Brett with me to our meetings, then I could at least get Daniel to come to my office for lunch. That way, if things did go south, Brett was a single phone call away. At the very least, I had security I could call to escort Daniel out of the building. I wasn’t stupid. I knew there were things that didn’t add up. But I was enjoying the conversations with a man I had wanted to know my entire life.
The least I could afford myself—and him—was the chance of trying to make this work.
Maybe Brett and my mother had been right in that regard.
I mean, Brett and I were a prime example. We had ended on such a terrible note all those years ago. A blowout fight that ended in the destruction of a years-long relationship that the two of us enjoyed immensely. And now, we were going to Europe together. To Amsterdam! A place he remembered from all those years ago that I had always wanted to visit and experience, to immerse myself in one day.
The two of us had changed, and for the better. Which meant there were good things to come for us. I felt it.
I wanted to give my father that same chance as well.
I swiveled my chair around and sighed. I had no idea what to do regarding the situation with Brett. I’d be alone on a different continent with him, and I wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer. My morning sickness was destroying my appetite, and he’d eventually call me out on my lack of coffee consumption or my constant turning down of fine wines I knew he’d try to toss at me on our trip. There were only so many excuses I’d be able to come up with before he’d get suspicious, and I wanted to talk with him before that suspicion kicked in. He deserved better than that. He was worth more than that to me.
But how long could I really keep this a secret?
I’d done ample amounts of research. I read everything I could get my hands on regarding what to expect during a pregnancy. And one of the things that stood out to me was the rate of miscarriages in first-time mothers. It was sky-high until the fourteenth week, the second trimester. The rate of miscarriage was something insane, like 75 percent. Then, that rate of miscarriage dropped to almost nothing, around 22 percent.
Was it possible for me to hold out telling Brett until my second trimester? Until I knew this baby was going to make it?
Or was I just making excuses for myself so I wouldn’t have to tell him?
I closed my eyes and groaned. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But in the pit of my gut, I knew what I had to do. Keeping this from Brett was wrong. It didn’t make sense. If I wanted us to get started on the right foot in order for us to have the best chance at working through this, I needed to be up front with him. Honest. Blunt, if I needed to be.
