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Barely managing to cover my mouth with my palm, I race to the basin before throwing up repeatedly. My breaths come hard and fast until I slow my breathing down enoug

h to coordinate turning the faucet on to splash cold water on my face. With my hands resting on the edge of the countertop, my eyes close from exhaustion, incapable of moving from this very spot.

In less than an hour, a car service will take me to the airport to board a plane to the Bahamas. A trip where I’m expected to dress in a swimsuit and pretend nothing is wrong.

When in fact—everything is wrong.

If I call Eric to cancel, I’ll never hear the end of it. It’s unprofessional, and the last thing I need is people speculating. But right now, no one else knows because who can I tell? If I tell Mom, it will be impossible for her to keep it from Dad, and the last thing I want is to burden her with a secret this big.

And if Dad knows, I’m sure Austin will be hunted down and fed to a den of lions.

Yet as horrible as that all sounds, nothing in the world compares to the gut-wrenching feeling of having to admit the truth to my sister. Every time I think of it, a wave of nausea hits laced with guilt.

The more I go over this in my head, the clearer my need to keep this a secret for as long as possible. Maybe, if I’m fortunate, there will be a few more weeks before my body changes, and everyone will know. If I dress in baggier clothes, I highly doubt anyone will notice.

Inside the living room, my phone rings. I run to quickly grab it until I see Millie’s name on the screen. Without a second thought, my finger hits reject. There’s no way I can speak to Millie right now, so to avoid her, a quick text to explain I’m busy should suffice.

Me: Sorry, just heading to the airport. Last-minute photoshoot in the Bahamas.

I suck in my stomach, taking the deepest of breaths. All I need to do is get through the next three days. My suitcase is already packed and sitting beside the door. Moving quickly around the apartment, I fill the smaller items into my carry-on to distract my thoughts until my phone alerts me of a text message.

Millie: Sorry, I was just having a moment. I got my period.

My knees turn weak, forcing me to sit down on the sofa before they give way. A thickness forms in my throat as I mentally curse myself for being so stupid. Not only did I sleep with Austin, but I also have the one thing Millie is so desperate for.

And the worst part is, I would trade places in a heartbeat. Being pregnant was not part of my life plan. It’s not that I disliked kids, I’m just selfish and will admit it. I enjoy luxurious holidays, spending money on designer clothes, and drinking martinis on private islands while being pampered.

Now, not only am I going to raise another human being, but I have to do it all alone.

There’s no response worthy of forgiveness. So, I quickly think of the only thing which comes to mind.

Me: I’m sorry. Maybe next month xx

The door buzzes with the doorman informing me of the arrival of the car service. I grab my things, ignoring the constant heaviness inside my chest, and try my best to forget I’m pregnant with my sister’s ex-fiancés baby.

The Bahamas photoshoot is nonstop. Eric chose the entire flight to map out this year’s business goals from the moment we boarded the plane. The irony is that I participated like nothing at all in my life will change. A few times, I opened my mouth to admit the truth but retreated with fear each time. Thankfully, many of the things scheduled aren’t photoshoots as we are focusing on my product line for loungewear and jewelry.

The shoot itself begins in the early hours of the morning on a gorgeous beach with pristine blue skies above us. The sun burns my skin, more so than usual, leaving me extra sensitive. I make a conscious effort to suck in my stomach when needed, scared someone will notice.

When the shoot is over, I breathe a sigh of relief. The swimsuit part is complete, and tomorrow is less revealing with the attire being photographed.

Thankfully, there’s time to stop for anything. Even though we’re in the Bahamas, this trip is far from relaxing. The other influencers are demanding with my time, all wanting to talk business. Eric schedules video conferences and meetings, which were initially planned for this week. Then there are the dinners which are like mixers with liquor served. I politely take a cocktail but end up throwing it in the bushes hoping no one sees it.

While there are moments that distract me from reality, the pregnancy makes sure to fight for attention every second I’m alone.

And the most critical thought is telling Austin.

The three days intended for this trip extend to six through no fault of my own. When a reminder comes up on my phone about my dinner with Lochie, I have no choice but to cancel. I send him a text, stating I’m caught up with work and now isn’t a good time for anything. It sounds cold, but what else can I possibly say to let him down? He never responds, and frankly, I don’t blame him.

I’m sure I’ll never date again.

Who the hell wants a single mother with a baby?

Back in Manhattan, reality is unavoidable. I toy back and forth with the idea of not telling Austin, but when my thoughts become too much, I run to the only person who, at this moment, I can trust entirely.

“Hey, short stuff, haven’t seen you in a while?”

Andy extends his arms as I fall into his embrace. Against his muscular chest, I close my eyes while he squeezes me tight. I wrap my arms around him, not wanting to let him go, desperate for the comfort he provides me.

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