#1 Chapter 48
Has to be a mistake. A false positive.
I can’t entertain the possibility that this might be true, that I might be pregnant, because how much of a disaster would that be? Assuming it’s Tony’s, he’d flip the fuck out. He doesn’t even want to get married. What’ll his reaction be when he finds out I’m carrying his child?
How am I supposed to bring a baby into my fucked-up life?
A smooth hand cradles my belly, and a wave of revulsion rises inside me. I shove Rafael’s body away from me.
“I fucking told you!”
Regret flashes over his eyes. “Baby, I-I didn’t know. This changes-holy Christ, I can’t believe I’m going to be a father.”
The fucking arrogance.
“What makes you think it’s even yours?” I seethe, enjoying the hurt transforming his face.
He raises his fists and my back hits the wall. He’s close enough so that I can feel his breath billowing over my face. “Don’t fucking push me, Elena.”
“Do you actually think that I would allow you to be in my child’s life? Look at you! You’re a fucking junkie.”
His nostrils flare. “Our child. And I’d like to see you make me stay away.”
“A few minutes ago, you were willing to slit my throat!”
His face pinches together. “I made a mistake-”
“-I would be dead, along with the baby. You’re not fit to be a father!”
“FUCK YOU!”
I scream as he punches his fist through the drywall next to my head, cowering as bits of plaster rain down. Rafael steps back, looking at his bloody hand in mild shock as he moves away from me.
That hole in the wall could’ve been me.
“You’re fucking crazy. Stay away from me!”
“Elena-”
He reaches forward with an apologetic hand, but I smack it away. He has the balls to look at me with a wounded face.
“I won’t tell Tony about this as long as you leave Montreal tonight. We both know he’ll have every reason in the world to kill you after this.”
Before he can respond, I sweep out of the bathroom, eager just to get the fuck out of this apartment and mull over everything that happened.
My chest feels incredibly tight, and the moment I step outside I gasp for air.
The tests could be false positives. Don’t freak out yet. Find out for sure.
But I just know that I am. I don’t know how or why, but some kind of sixth sense tells me that I’m carrying a child and I should be thankful.
Otherwise who knows what he would’ve done to me?
I can’t think about it until I know for sure.
Using my phone, I find the nearest hospital and walk through the doors, blinking at all the French signs. An hour later I’m staring at a nurse as she congratulates me on my pregnancy. It’s positive. I’m pregnant.
“How effective is this test?”
“Up to ninety-nine percent. Mademoiselle, do you want me to schedule a prenatal appointment?”
As I stare into the nurse’s happy, young face, tears well up in my eyes. I can’t be fucking pregnant. There’s no way-I take those pills every day.
But you might’ve forgotten a couple days. During that first night with Tony. You were upset. The pills were at home. You didn’t take one.
Fuck, that’s right. I might’ve missed a few days-shit, what was I thinking?
This is such a mess. I don’t want this baby-
Get an abortion.
It burns in my head, the forbidden word blazing, almost tangible on my lips, but I know that I can’t. The very idea fills me with horror. Not because it’s a sin. I don’t know-I just can’t do it. I can’t snuff out a life.
The nurse tries her best to comfort me, and sends me home with a thick envelope of pamphlets and forms and numbers of doctors I need to see and how am I going to tell this to Tony? How, exactly, am I going to break this to him?
I play with my cell phone, miserably contemplating phoning my sister about the news. My thumb hovers over his name.
I just can’t do it.
I don’t want him to hate me, too. So far, he’s the only person in the world who gives some semblance of a shit about me.
He’s the father of your child. He should know.
Not yet, I whisper desperately to the voice. Not fucking yet.
“Where were you?”
The question slams down on my shoulders the moment I walk through the door.
I didn’t expect him to be back so soon.
Tony walks into the foyer, dark hair tousled and his smoky eyes narrowed in suspicion. The moment I see him, it’s like a little jump to my heart. It’s as though my body knows that he’s the one who got me pregnant.
I take his hands and look into his gruff face, which demands an answer.
Tell him.
I open my mouth.
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