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I have to remind myself that telling her I’ll tie her to the bed if she doesn’t listen is not a favorable option, so instead I go with something a little less alpha-like.
“Do me a favor and rest because it makes me happy. You've had a lot of excitement today, and I can’t fathom losing the tiny life we just discovered growing inside of you. I’ve never been pregnant before, clearly, but I can’t imagine it’s easy on the body.”
Bianca sighs, her eyes twinkling with joy even as she rolls them. “If this is how you will be for the next seven months, I’m not sure I’ll survive.”
“Oh, little bird, if you think this is bad, just wait until you start showing. I can’t be held liable for all the people I threaten simply for looking at you.” I gently grab her by the back of the neck and pull her closer, brushing my nose against hers. “I’ve wanted to see you swollen with my child since that first night I saw you watching me on the patio. Now my fantasy is becoming a reality, and I’ll do anything in my power to keep you this way.”
She lets out a helpless groan before pressing her lips to mine. She’s perfect, and everything that is mine. The mere thought of ever losing her again makes me crazy with rage. I won’t ever let her go, no matter what happens. Even if she claims she doesn’t love me. Even if she hates me. I can’t live without her.
Nonetheless, to make certain nothing fucks with my plans, I need to make sure she never, ever finds out what I did to her pills or about the fertility shot. She's forgiven many things, probably more than most women would, but that? That's the kind of thing she might never forgive me for, and while I won’t ever let her go, I’d rather have her love me than hate me. Because losing her or our child is not an option.
BIANCA
“Hey, what are you looking at?”
My heart just about jumps out of my chest as I quickly close my browser before turning in my chair to find Stephanie standing at the entrance of my cubicle. The way she lifts an eyebrow while folding her arms reminds me too much of my best friend—it hurts, since we haven’t spoken all week.
I touch a hand to my chest, laughing. “You're like a ghost, I swear. How are you so quiet?”
“Maybe you were too busy looking at naughty things to notice me coming up behind you.”
“Naughty things?” The idea makes me giggle, because she couldn't be further from the truth. It was dirty things that got me pregnant in the first place. Now, I am reading advice columns and googling baby names when I should be working.
“Nobody closes their browser that fast if they aren’t looking at something they shouldn't be.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I was reading junk on Reddit.” At least it's a believable lie. “I don't want to get caught screwing around.”
“Who cares?” she sighs. “It's Friday afternoon. Half the office is already gone for the day.”
That's a good point, and the only reason I had the spare time to screw around on the internet. It seems most of the managers and their assistants schedule their time around Fridays in the summer, cutting out around lunchtime if they come in at all. “It is nice, the office being this quiet. I could get used to it.” Even if I’d like to be one of the lucky ones who can sneak out with nobody minding. At least it makes the day easy and peaceful.
“Although come September, the good times are over.” She leaves on that unhappy note, humming to herself as she sits in the next cubicle. I wonder why she interrupted me in the first place. Maybe she’s bored. I’ll have to be more careful with my time if she’s going to be randomly popping over.
Soon enough, I won’t have an option. Everyone will know. I smile to myself when I remember Alan walking me through the paperwork before I started, pointing out that I might be interested in their maternity leave policy one day. I could never have imagined I'd be interested in it this quickly.
Everything's happening so fast, yet I can't say I'm unhappy about it. Now that I know Callum wants the baby and is already planning on devoting a room to the nursery, it's simpler for me to look forward to the coming months. No, I still haven't told Dad, and I have no idea how even to begin broaching the subject with him—maybe once I have an image from the ultrasound, I can show it to him. It'll be more real, then. A picture of his grandbaby growing inside me.
Of course, the doubt trickles in. What if he's never happy about it? If he can't accept it? That would leave me with a difficult decision, but only one choice makes any sense. I have to choose me and the family I’m growing. If he can't love my baby because of who fathered them, that's up to him. I won't beg him to be a part of my life.
