The Billionaire’s Risky Pregnancy

Chapter 6

She waited until he was gone to crawl out of bed. It took all of her strength to keep from bursting away from the sheets and pull on his arm. No. She wasn’t going to get his hopes up. Or hers for that matter. Maybe she was just late. It had happened before. When she was stressed out on account of her lesson plans or ate too much or too little in the span of a month. She couldn’t quite remember it happening on account of happiness. But maybe her body was not accustomed to so much joy. It felt that way on the previous night. When Smith slipped into bed and took her into his arms. His kisses were quick. But his hands stayed slow. She loved the way he seemed to draw pictures against her flesh and never stopped to look up and survey he creation. Like he just knew that every touch was a masterpiece. She had never felt so happy under the space of any man’s fingers. And when he slept, Tasha stayed awake to trace the paths that his fingers had trailed across her skin. She could get used to it and keep things as they were.

But the fact that she was late.

Tasha heard Smith moving around the apartment in search of his shirt and slacks. Would they ever properly live together so he could hang his pants and get dressed without having to crawl around the edge of her bed? Lifting one eyelid, she still thought the sight of him trying to keep quiet was all kinds of cute. Would what she had to tell him change things? He said that he was in it for the long haul. But it was an imaginary idea that wasn’t supposed to come to pass for years or more. She had to be sure before she spilled her guts.

Which was exactly what happened when he left her bed and stumbled towards the toilet.

Clutching the edge of the bowl, Tasha emptied her stomach and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before collapsing under the wall. She still felt the need to pee and crawled into the back of her medicine cabinet. The cardboard box in her hand was a vestige of another life. She had a scare once and smiled when the stick failed to reveal two solid stripes. After that, she popped the pill religiously and insisted on condoms to double down on the protection. She hadn’t made that move with Smith, and after the first time, it was too late to take it back. But the pill worked, right? They would be okay…

…only one way to find out.

Pissing on a stick felt like she was trying to capture a urine sample in a plastic bag to take to the vet. Why couldn’t dogs just hold it and let the techs do their thing? She remembered chasing after her beagle and hearing the sound of her sister’s voice as soon as Munson lifted his leg. Far more of the spray hit her hands than the bag, but she still tied it off around the edge and kept it in her lap as her sister held Munson for the length of the drive. She felt like she reeked of the stench as she passed the yellowed bag over the counter and patted the dog’s head. It took ten minutes and an entire physical later to confirm that the dog was fine. Only then did one of the girls in scrubs point her towards a sink so she could wash her hands. She was clean for the way out, but now she didn’t have Munson in her lap.

“Maybe I’ll just see if he wants a puppy if this comes out the other way around.”

Setting the stick on the edge of the sink, Tasha scrubbed and rinsed her hands. Looking into the mirror, she wished that she didn’t look so tired. Not like she hadn’t slept in his arms. And beyond that it was a bad sign. Her mother always said that a bun in the oven made a body look like it needed more sleep than hours in the day. Not wanting to believe in as much, Tasha left the bathroom and started to brew a cup of coffee. Suddenly feeling like she needed the caffeine more than life itself, she reached for a few sugar packets, smelled the milk to make sure that it hadn’t spoiled when her every movement came to a stop.

“Caffeine’s not good for the baby,” she muttered under her breath. “If there even is a baby.”

No confirmation as of yet, but she threw caution  to the wind and drank the milk from the carton and looked to the digitized clock on the face of the microwave. Why did ten minutes have to take forever right now when it was never enough to beat the morning rush or catch a movie before the trailers stopped playing? Tasha liked the coming attractions and the promise that every flick might be the next big thing. Sure the powers that be cut the clips together for perfect effect. And the finished product never lived up to the hype. But she still liked the first thrill of seeing something new and hoping. Her mind ticked off a series of such trailers.

The following preview has been approved for all audiences.

She was a wise woman who had learned magic at her mother’s foot. Sent out into the real world, she found herself face-to-face with a prince who didn’t believe in spells. But he still rescued her from a fire breathing dragon and promised to love her. Cue the singing frogs and syrupy music. They would dance towards the stars. Danger was still suggested, but the happily ever after seemed a sure thing as a pop version of the couple’s theme song streamed through the speakers of the darkened theater. Maybe the child was only implied, but what were soulmates supposed to get down to once the music had died down?

Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.

Now it was a rom com. Smith was the happy go lucky bachelor, and she was the girl he took out and scored with only once. She feared that she might be pregnant. He went through the motions of freaking out and pretending not to know her name. It was a false alarm, and in the moments that followed, she wanted nothing to do with him since he had revealed his true colors. What followed was his every attempt to get her back via a stint in a daycare to show her that he as worthy of the second chance. Would she give him as much? The trailer answered the question with a kiss and swelling music.

Tasha liked the look of that version of events.

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This was the darkest timeline. A girl was loved and lost. When he heard the truth, he turned his back. A series of harsh scenes. She had to beg for him to give her the time of the day, and when the baby finally came into the world, she  was alone and had to struggle to care for the child on her own and take the tiny moments of happiness where she could find them. One came courtesy of a compassionate neighbor who looked and talked like Morgan Freeman and raised the child when she was no longer a part of her picture.

“Seen The Shawshank Redemption too many times,” Tasha muttered to herself. “It won’t be like that.”

But it was ten minutes, and she raced back to the bathroom.

“Okay,” she said as she closed her eyes and held her breath. “Maybe it’s nothing. And even if it is…”

Opening her eyes, Tasha looked down at the stick and gasped at the positive. Reading and re-reading the directions on the back of the box, Tasha could no longer deny the sight, and she clutched her belly as she sank to the floor and struggled to catch her breath. Okay. Home tests were not the be and end all of everything. The thing to do now was to call her doctor and get something in the way of total confirmation. She practically crawled out of the bathroom in search of her phone, and she  was ready to text George when there was an unread message that passed before her eyes.