Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I draw in a shaky breath, wipe my face, and straighten my shoulders.
There’s no way to avoid this conversation.
Or the fallout.
And pretending there is will only make it worse.
After a short pep talk, I force myself to leave the safety of the bedroom. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Once in the hall, I pause, listening for signs of life, but there are none. Cartoons aren’t playing in the background, and Elody’s giggles aren’t echoing off the walls. There’s no trace of Laiken’s calm, steady baritone carrying from the kitchen.
The penthouse is eerily silent. A cold knot of dread forms in my stomach as I move toward the kitchen.
“Laiken?” I call out before peering into the bright, sunlit space. My gaze drifts to the marble island, where a folded note sits in plain sight with my name scrawled across the front in his bold handwriting.
My heart skips a beat before slamming hard against my ribs as I reach for the paper, already bracing for what it might say. For the words I’ve been half-expecting since last night.
That hiring me was a mistake and I’m being fired. That I should pack my bags and be out before he returns with his daughter.
I swallow hard, unfolding the note and forcing myself to scan the words.
I’ll be home after I drop Elody off at school and then we’ll talk. – Laiken
My stomach bottoms out.
We’ll talk.
Not are you okay?
Not we’ll figure it out.
Just… we’ll talk.
Yup, this is it. He’s going to fire me. And then I’ll have to tell Oliver and the rest of my family. I can already imagine the look on my brother’s face along with the uncomfortable silence that follows when someone’s caught off guard and at a loss for words.
I force myself to the living room and sit, hands twisting in my lap. I’ve never been more terrified. Not even when I told Collin that I was pregnant. It’s tempting to save us both this awkward conversation and leave before he returns.
To run while I still can.
But I get the feeling that Laiken won’t allow me to disappear so easily. At the very least, I owe him an honest conversation. No matter how difficult that might be.
With no other recourse, I wait with my heart lodged in the middle of my throat as the silence stretches, thickening until it turns oppressive. And when the elevator finally dings twenty minutes later, there’s an excellent chance I might throw up again.
22
Laiken
When the doors slide open, I find the penthouse shrouded in silence. For a second or two, I worry that Kia packed her bags and took off, unwilling to wait around for a conversation. The thought is enough to send a chill down my spine.
The last thing I need is her wandering the city alone and upset. I want her here with me, safe and protected.
I hurry down the hall and check the kitchen first. Empty. The absence only sharpens my fear as my mind races straight to worst-case scenarios. When I round the corner into the living room, I find her sitting ramrod straight on the edge of the couch, hands folded tightly in her lap.
The relief that crashes over me is nearly enough to take me out.
She’s here.
She stayed.
The realization comes with an uncomfortable truth that I’d already been preparing myself for what it would feel like if she hadn’t. Her hands twist together, and her shoulders are hunched, as if bracing for a blow. Her face is pale, and her eyes are wide, filled with fear. She looks so damn small and defenseless.
When it comes down to it, I don’t know Kia well, but I know that look. It’s one that says she’s expecting judgment. Sympathy floods through me as I cross the room, forcing myself to take it slow. I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll end up spooking her and she’ll bolt.
I’m well aware of my size and how easily my presence could overwhelm her. Kia watches me cautiously, worry flashing across her face before she schools it.
I really fucking hate that she’s so nervous.
I settle beside her, close enough that our knees almost touch, and reach for her hands. It would be impossible not to notice how cold they are or that she’s trembling. Her breath hitches as she stares down at the place where our fingers are now laced together.
It’s tempting to pull her into my arms and hold her. Instead, I ask the one question that’s uppermost in my mind.
“How far along are you?”
She swallows. “I’m not sure. Once I missed a period, I took a test. So… around three months.”
I nod. “Okay.”
I don’t let myself react to the number. I need to take this one step at a time. That’s how you survive moments like this.
My mind moves to the next logical step. “The first thing we should do is make an appointment with an OB-GYN.”