Page 28 of CEO's Baby Scandal
Isipped the coffee carefully, knowing I’d already thrown up three times this morning. I didn’t want to be rude and leave Daniel seated on my couch while I raced to the bathroom. He seemed tense, as if he were uncomfortable in my place. It wasn’t anything like his mansion of a home. My apartment was barely livable. Even I knew that, but he hadn’t said a word about it.
“I really appreciate your stopping by.” I hadn’t expected any visitors. When I called in and told Olivia I’d be out today, she told me I should have called Daniel, but I knew this would happen—that he’d get the idea that I was a sick little waif who needed comfort. Honestly, I just wanted to melt into the couch cushions and be invisible. I was fiercely independent and knew I could take care of myself.
“It’s no problem. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” The couch squeaked as he readjusted himself. The springs were broken, and I should have sat on that end because I knew it was uncomfortable, but the shock of his just walking into my dinky apartment made me not think straight.
“I have to be honest, Dan. I’m still a bit worried about us being so different. I know you said it doesn’t matter, but I’veseen the way you live, your house.” My hands trembled as I brought the cup to my lips and sipped again. I wasn’t self-sabotaging. I wasn’t pushing him away. I honestly believed he would be happier with someone different, someone who wasn’t about to thrust a surprise pregnancy on him. I still didn’t have the guts to tell him about it, either.
“Emily, I’ve been over this with you. In fact, I’ve been over this with my parents and my partners. The differences aren’t going to be what keeps us from being together.” He pursed his lips and sighed. “You shouldn’t worry about that.”
I nodded, unsure of what that meant. I wondered if he thought something else would keep us from being together. His hands folded and unfolded in his lap, eyes scanning the room like he was watching for a flying insect so it didn’t land on him. I could tell something was bothering him. I hated that he was uncomfortable in my place because there was nothing I could do about the conditions. Even on the decent salary the firm paid me, this was all I could afford. The city was expensive.
“You think something is going to keep us from being together?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear his answer.
“The only thing I can foresee that would prevent me from being with you is a lie.” His eyes shifted, focusing on me instead of the invisible insect. “I can get through any difficult truth, but lies… they’re deal breakers.”
I swallowed hard, hiding it behind the cup of coffee I brought to my lips again. I held the cup there, pretending to sip but knowing if another drop of this coffee hit my stomach, I’d definitely throw up. I wondered if he knew, or how he’d have figured out that I was pregnant. I’d been very careful. Only Char knew about the baby, and she’d never go behind my back like that. All I could do is nod in agreement and blink back the tears of guilt I had welling up. I had already lied to him.
“I’m just not feeling so hot right now.” It was the truth. The added weight of emotion his words had just stirred up made me feel ten times worse. Who knew that feeling strong feelings would make morning sickness worse?
“Do you know what it is?” He leaned toward me, concerned. His hand lifted the paper cup from my grasp and set it on the table, then he pressed his hand to my forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”
“I wasn’t’ around anyone who was sick…” I was careful not to lie directly, though I knew the lie of omission would haunt me the rest of the day.
“You’ve just been nauseous?” His eyes studied me, and I thought for sure he was going to ask me if I was pregnant, but he didn’t. I nodded and he said, “Probably just a bug. It’s going around, I hear.” He stood, taking the cup of coffee and heading for the kitchen. “You probably shouldn’t drink this if you’re sick in the stomach. You’ll make it worse. I’ll go out and get you soup. That will help.”
“No,” I blurted, standing up. I hugged my arms over my stomach and followed him to the kitchen, where he took the lid off the cup and poured the coffee down the drain. “I, uh… I’m going to make an appointment and see the doctor.”Eventually… I added in my head, so it wasn’t a lie. “I’ll just run through a drive-through and get my own soup.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, turning to me. He set the empty cup on the counter then took me by the arms and kissed my forehead. “I’m really sorry you’re not feeling well. If there is anything I can do at all, you call me. I’ll come right away.”
“I should be fine. Hopefully, back at work tomorrow.”
Daniel’s eyes did another sweep of my apartment and then rested on my face. “Are you sure you’re happy here? I mean, the living conditions…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away,then hurriedly said, “I’m not judging. I’m just asking. Don’t you want something better?”
I shrugged and looked around. “I grew up really poor, Dan.” The broken, stained furniture had been my prized possessions when I moved in here because they were mine. My first furniture in my very own place. It was what I could afford, and I felt like a queen because I was doing it on my own.
“I lived in very meager means for a long time. It wasn’t until about a year before I moved to Chicago that my parents’ business took off. I remember times where we didn’t even have money to buy groceries and had to go to a food pantry for help.”
I turned back to him and forced a smile. “I’m not a billionaire like you, but I provide for myself. I know it’s not fancy and that things could be nicer, but it’s mine. You know? And I’m proud that I can live in this expensive city and be on my own.”
There was an awkward silence before I took his hand. “Don’t leave yet?” I asked, and he laced his fingers through mine. “Can you just hold me for a second?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” His agreement seemed neither positive nor negative, but I felt like maybe he’d have rather left. I led him to my bedroom, where I folded back the covers of my unmade bed and climbed in. Dan kicked off his shoes and laid his suit coat on the foot of the bed and lay down next to me. I didn’t know if this would be one of the last times I would get to enjoy his arms around me, so I soaked up every second of it. The scent of his cologne, the way he brushed his thumb across the back of my hand.
I said nothing. He did the same. We lay there until I was almost dozing and Dan got a call. He reached in his pocket and pulled it out. I saw the caller ID said Grace’s name and knew he had to leave before he even cleared his throat.
“I… uh… I have to take this.” Daniel pulled away from me leaving me chilled and shoved his feet into his shoes. “I’ll checkon you later, okay?” I nodded, and he left without another word, forgetting his suit coat.
I curled into a ball and hugged the comforter to myself. It was obvious how much I struggled. He had to have seen it. And the way he acted told me he was having second thoughts. All this before he even knew I was pregnant, which didn’t bode well for me when I had to tell him about the baby.
I started to cry. In fact, I cried so hard just thinking about how angry he would be with me that my stomach started to cramp. Fear gripped me—raising this baby alone without him, him breaking up with me because I lied and hadn’t told him right away. Guilt and shame washed over me, sucking me in and spitting me out until I was running to the toilet to vomit for the fourth time today.
It hurt, the acid in my throat, the dry heaving when the only thing that came up were the few swallows of coffee I’d drunk. My head hurt. It felt like my eyes would pop out of my head, but I hovered over that toilet, sobbing and retching. I had to tell him, even if it killed me. I just didn’t know how to do it.
20
DANIEL
It was a pleasant enough day, cool but calm. When Mom invited me for brunch, I almost dismissed the invitation as another event to avoid, but when she said Nick and Ginny were coming, I decided I’d go. Now I sat around the wrought-iron table on their back patio listening to Nick talk about how successful his business was. Ginny, eight months pregnant, sat across from me, chewing her food quietly. She appeared to not be as pleased with Nick’s business, though I understood. She’d rather have him more available for family time.