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I’d been attending a photography course for the last year and things had gotten complicated the past while, particularly with the wealth of assignments we had to turn in.
But I couldn’t ignore it anymore and here was my god damn answer.
“Pregnant,” I whispered. “How?”
I hadn’t forgotten to take any of my contraceptive pills. And the only person I’d had sex with was him. Jacob’s brother.
The sex between me and Jacob had petered off a month before he’d ended it with me. He’d always had some excuse not to come around, and it’d hurt like a son of a bitch, particularly because he’d been my first time ever.
And now, the second guy I’d slept with had gotten me pregnant. And, oh, by the by, he happened to be my ex’s billionaire brother.
Resort owner extraordinaire. Definitely not a stripper.
Shame washed over me, a stroke of heat, and I flopped back on my pillows. Maybe, the heat was from the hormones. I pressed my free hand – the one not clutching the pee stick – to my breast and winced at the pain.
I have no one. I have no one to help me with this.
I had a distant aunt who lived somewhere in Wyoming, but she hadn’t seen me since before my mom had left. After that, it’d been foster homes and the system, and yeah, nothing else. I had nothing but these four walls, and the night time job at the diner and my photography classes.
None of my friends would so much as text me, let alone talk me down off the cliff that was my current anxiety attack.
No one.
I struggled upright and balled up my fists.
“Fine,” I said. “No one. I have no one now, and I had no one before and that’s fine. If I have to do this on my own, I will.” The words were empty, but they injected me with a little strength.
I’d have to take double shifts at the diner to earn the money to put away. I might even have to quit my photography classes and sell the camera. All fine. None of that mattered. What mattered was I’d finally have someone of my own to love and hold. And I wouldn’t ever give up this baby.
Not ever. It wouldn’t go through what I did as a kid.
“You’re mine,” I whispered and pressed my palm to my stomach. Something fluttered deep within my womb, and tears welled in the corners of my eyes.
You’re mine. That was what he said, wasn’t it?
Oh, god, I didn’t even want to think of telling Bain Mitchell.
He’d lied to me, and I’d lied to myself about what’d happened between us.
At the time, I’d figured it was just a one-night stand, a fling with someone I’d never see again, but the truth was something between us had clicked. We’d had a connection, and it hurt thinking about it and him, and how things had ended between us.
The lock on my front door scraped and I sat upright, pulse pattering in my throat. Only one person had the key to that lock, and they hadn’t used it in forever.
“Hello?” I called out.
Silence, followed by a slam, and then muffled footsteps. My doorknob turned.
“Who is that?” I asked and slid open the drawer of my distressed bedside table. I grabbed hold of my can of mace.
The door swung inward and Carly entered, her hair tied up in a messy bun, dark circles under her eyes, and wearing her old faded Metallica t-shirt. She halted just inside the room and stuck her hands in the pockets of her cut-off shorts. “Hey,” she said.
I released the can of mace, finger by finger. “Hi,” I replied and tucked the pregnancy test behind my back.
“Hi,” she said, again.
“You said that already.” I chewed my bottom lip. “What’s up? No offense, but I didn’t expect to see you around here again.” I’d already struggled to replace her as a roommate, and she hadn’t returned to remove any of her stuff.
“I got an annulment.”
“What?!” I jolted, then shook my head. “Carly, what happened? I mean, if you want to tell me. I know it’s not my business.” God, what if her wedding had gone tits up because of me?
No, she’d have come back earlier than this, then.
“It didn’t work out,” she said. “I couldn’t force myself to love him. I wanted to make it work, but I couldn’t. The whole thing was a huge mistake, and over the last three months, all I’ve thought about is how I messed up everything. I hurt your feelings and I – I hope you can forgive me, Hazel.”
I worked my mouth, tried for the words to forgive her when I couldn’t really. What was there to forgive? It’d been her weekend, and she’d chosen her best friend over her roommate. I couldn’t fault her for it.
