Ray
Being able to roll up my passenger side window for the first time in months felt like the
biggest possible win I could have been given. At least there was one positive from my time with
Wade, along with the extra cash. For now, anyway.
I knew that going to work wasn’t in my best interest considering the chance of him being in
the office was high, and I knew I needed to look for work elsewhere. I didn’t believe he was bad
enough to fire me after this, wasn’t as malicious as my previous boss, James, had been. But I
couldn’t mend my heart if I was sitting ten feet from him.
I pushed the main door to the office open. My stomach churned, but I would do what I
needed to do, schedule what I needed to schedule, and get the fuck out at the end of the day. I
hoped I wouldn’t have to see him or interact with him.
Exc ept for the fact that he was standing in the middle of rec eption, speaking to Holly from
human resources.
His eyes met mine in a flash, dark irises flaring. Holly excused herself within a second,
scurrying away into the recesses of the office to mingle with everyone else, leaving me alone
with the one person I was desperate not to see.
“Good morning, Ray,” he said. “Morning.” “Feeling better?” “What?” I asked. Please don’t tell
me he doesn’t understand this is done. Please. “You said you were sick.”
Oh. Shit. I forgot about that. “Yeah, I’m fine. Stomach bug,” I mumbled. I shifted awkwardly
on my feet, not knowing what else to say to him as silence fell. He stood between me and my
office, and my only choices were to stand there wordlessly or brush past him. Neither was
particularly appealing.
“How’s your mom?” “Fine.” “Good.” “Y ep.” “Is this how it’s going to be now?” He asked,
irritation biting at his words.
“I don’t see how else it should be,” I r eplied. I shrugged at him, pushing myself to be as
nonchalant as I could. “The deal is done. You got your investment. I got paid. Why wouldn’t we
go back to how it was before?”
“So after everything, you’re Ice Bunny again?” “Don’t fucking call me that, you brute. I’m not
a bunny and I never have been,” I snapped. I took the plunge and moved toward my office,
bumping my shoulder against the spot just above his elbow as I passed him. “And I’m not
managing your private diary anymore, either. Fire me if you want.”
Weeks.
They felt more like months with how slowly they passed. He didn’t fire me, thankfully, and
was now spending the majority of his time at the resort instead of here in the office. It worked
out better for both of us. He’d text or email if specific things needed scheduling, but our
communication was k ept to a minimum. I updated his schedule, and he checked it daily. I didn’t
have to tell him when things were coming up.
It didn’t make it any easier though. The thoughts and memories were still there. They
plagued me most at night, ate at my dreams, r eplaying the best moments, and putting them up
against what I’d heard in the garage. I truly believed that getting over him would be as easy as
getting under him, but apparently, my heart thought differently.
He’d k ept my salary at the much higher figure and I hadn’t questioned it. I’d let him pay me in
excess until he remembered to cut out the two-and- a-half-times figure he’d given me. I’d been
able to easily ke ep Mom on her medication and pay the bills, but I knew damn well there was a
point where that wouldn’t be the case anymore. I had to pr epare for it and find another job as
soon as I could.
Dani had taken Mom out to her evening physical therapy session by the time I got home.
With the house to myself for the first time in weeks, I finally, thankfully, had a safe space to let
loose. I’d held in every sob, every choked cry since that night, not wanting Mom to overhear
and worry. I hadn’t thrown myself into her arms like I thought I would, hadn’t spoken to her
about it at all. I’d dodged every question. The anxiety of taking back my admission that I was
falling in love with him was too much to bear.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I collapsed onto my bed. I fished it out, thinking nothing of
it other than maybe it was an email about work, but seeing the reminder I’d set up in my period
tracking app on the screen completely caught me off guard.
You haven’t logged a period in eight weeks. Would you like to add one now?
I nearly dropped my phone. That can’t be right. That can’t be fucking right. Scrambling to
open the app, I double-checked the date of my last one, crossing the wires of when that was,
what I was doing, and if the information was accurate. I was regular. I was always regular.
My hands shook as I stared at it. It was correct. “No,” I breathed, dropping it on the bed. The
screen stared back at me as if it were alive, taunting me, daring me to check for myself.
I’d been a bigger fool than I thought. Thinking back, I couldn’t remember a single instance of
me and Wade using any form of protection. I’d been on the pill when I was with James but had
stopped taking it soon after. I hadn’t needed to think about it then. Old habits die fucking hard, I
guess.
I raced to the bathroom, the room spinning around me and tore open the cabinets below the
sink. I had to have a test in there. Somewhere, somehow, one had to be left over from my more
promiscuous days. I didn’t even care if it was expired. I just needed some form of a negative.
One singular test called to me from the far recesses of the cabinet. I snatched it up, tore the
plastic with my teeth, and whipped the cap off at the same moment that my pants and
underwear dropped to the floor.
The five minutes of waiting were absolute torture. I had to take myself away from the
bathroom. Instead of staring at the potential lines, I stared instead at the family photos that
hung on the hallway wall. Imagining my father behind me instead of forever memorialized in
photos was enough to calm my breathing, but not my mind.
I counted every second. Took my time. Meditated with it. And by the time I got to three
hundred seconds, I raced back to the bathroom and stared in absolute horror at the sight in
front of me.
Two lines. Pregnant.