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“I did not ask you for an explanation,” I whisper harshly. “I asked for the truth.Yes or no.”
His defeated sigh says everything. “Yes.”
“Get out of the room. I want to be alone.”
“Bianca—”
“I do not want to be around you right now!! Respect me enough to give me a few moments alone since you couldn't respect me enough to allow me to make a choice regarding my own body.” I don't care if it hurts him. In fact, I wouldn't be upset if it did. Not after what he's done.
He hesitates, lingering like he's waiting for me to change my mind. That's not going to happen. It takes a slow count to ten, with me staring at the ceiling because I refuse to look at him right now, before he crosses the small room in a few steps and opens the door. He stays for a second longer, like he's considering what to say, but when I turn my face toward the wall, he walks out.
Immediately I cover my face with my hands and start to cry. He tricked me. Now, that word doesn't begin to cover it.He lied. He manipulated me.All so he could get what he wanted. It's not like he didn't tell me his plans to get me pregnant right away, but I didn't believe he would go to these lengths. I couldn't have made this up in my head if I tried.
How could he?He's supposed to love me. You don't trick the person you love. You don't tamper with their birth control to get what you want. That's not love.
But he got what he wanted. I'm pregnant with his child. What am I supposed to do now?
That's the worst question of all, the one that leaves me choking on my tears. I'm sure he's out there, listening, and I don't want him to hear. The idea of keeping a bit of my pride seems important. He's already taken my choices from me, so I won't let him take my pride away, too.
What do I do?
Lowering my hands, I sit up, then pull myself together. I have to think of the baby, first and foremost. What's best for it? After that, what's best for me? How do I live with this man, knowing what he's willing to do to get what he wants? It didn't matter to him that I had a life and goals of my own.
Were they really goals?
I shake my head at myself as I pull on my leggings. No, it's true, I was only living the life I thought I had to live. Getting the degree, the job, all of it. Still, if I wanted to change things. That should have been my decision. I should have had a choice. I shake my head with frustration. He's waiting for me out there, and soon enough, I will have to get in a car and go home with him.What happens, then? What's my move?
What's best for the baby? Because, in the end, that's what I have to focus on now.
On one hand, he's not the man he used to be. That much, I believe. The Callum I first fell in love with wasn't the man capable of going behind my back, messing with my pills somehow, or even giving me a shot. When did it happen? I guess it doesn't matter now.
Yes, he's changed since then, or he's trying to, but that's not an excuse for fucked up behavior. That's not enough to get me to forgive him or even trust him again immediately.
Do I still love him?That much I don't need to think about. If anything, this wouldn't hurt so much if Ididn'tlove him. I can't imagine life without him. Even now.
Which means I need to find a way to get through this and somehow find it in me to forgive him. That's not going to happen today, however.
In fact, nothing has to happen today. I need time. To think this over and figure out what to do next. How I'm supposed to live with this man—who I still love—and be able to look at myself in the mirror every day.
First things first. Leaving this room and facing him.Mom, please, if you're up there. Help me. Tell me what to do. I don't expect an answer, obviously, but thinking of her is what gives me the strength to open the door and face the man waiting for me.
At least he looks remorseful. Actually, he seems downright distraught, with his hair mussed like he's been running his fingers through it, the pain hovering around his eyes, bracketing the corners of his mouth.
Here I am, knowing he betrayed me, and my first impulse is to comfort him.I must be out of my damn mind.The man tricked me into getting pregnant, and I want to comfort him. It's almost too twisted. I should want to scratch his eyes out, kick him in the balls, something that would make him regret even thinking about betraying me. But no, I want to smooth down his hair and cup the back of his neck while he rests his head against my shoulder. I want to tell him everything is going to be okay, when I don't even know if that's true.
“Did you have any questions for the doctor?” he asks as I rush past him on the way to the front door. I notice Doctor Oscar is conveniently nowhere to be found. Did Callum chew him out for letting their little secret slip? I can't even bring myself to ask.
“No,” I snap, and push my way through the glass door without bothering to hold it for Callum, then walk straight to the car and climb inside before the driver has the chance to help me.
I'm tired of waiting for people to help me. I'm tired of many things I've gone along with to keep from rocking the boat. All it took was knowing how much of my life has been outside my control to see things through different eyes. All this time, I've been grateful to be part of this world and part of Callum's life, but I didn't realize this is my world, too. It's my life, too.
I need to start thinking about what's best for me and the baby instead of acting like I'm so lucky to be worthy enough to ride in a car like this, or to go back to a mansion in a guarded compound. I've been looking at this all wrong for way too long.
Callum slides into the car a few moments later, his body stiff, his features tight. Things couldn't be more different than they were on the way to the doctor's office. Instead of sitting close to him, we're on opposite sides of the back seat by the time the car rolls away from the little building in the middle of nowhere. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that a doctor who works for Callum is willing to be unethical.
“Will you at least speak to me, please?”
I'm almost stunned that he would ask me rather than demand I speak to him. It's obvious he's trying to do better, but better isn't good enough if the secrets of your past are never revealed.Did he even plan to tell me, or was he going to let me think it was an accident all along?I can't let this change my mind, but I can at least notice it.
