Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,39

happened in this firm since Pierce left. Deep breaths, slowly, take air in and out.

Once I calm down, I pack my personal belongings while I finish backing up my external hard drive.

When I arrive home, I feel lost. What am I supposed to do now? I pull out my computer and stare at the black screen. It’s as if someone just pulled off my limbs and I don’t know how I’m going to function anymore.

I’m not sure what time it is, but it’s dark outside when my phone rings. Pierce’s name appears on the screen.

“Brassard here,” I answer, my mouth tastes like metal and my throat is dry.

“You okay there?” Pierce asks. “You hung up on me when my mom entered your office and I haven’t heard from you for hours.”

I don’t have the energy to answer and he speaks, “My mother called me. They need help with a case that you fucked up. I’m assuming Eddy blamed you, and he’s using you as his scapegoat. Which brings me to my next conclusion. They fired you.”

“Well, counselor, two out of two,” I say, and it’s as if they are the magical words to open the dam. I begin crying, and I can’t stop myself.

The crying seems like yet another way to disrupt my stomach and I’m puking again. This time I run to the kitchen sink. Once I clean myself and get ahold of my emotions, I grab my phone.

“Sorry,” I sniff. “It’s been a bad week.”

“And it’s just Tuesday,” he informs me. “Did you document everything as I told you?”

“Yes, I barely slept because I worked on it all night. I had a bad feeling. However, she threatened to take away my license.”

“She won’t have time to do anything. She’s too busy with Eddy’s fuck up. We need to move fast,” he says and adds, “Can you please go to the doctor soon?”

I hear voices in the background and then he asks, “What are your symptoms.”

I give him a brief history of my nausea, fatigue, and mood swings. He repeats them to whoever is around him and the guy says, “Sounds like what Blaire has.”

“Who is this Blaire, who are you talking to, and what does she have? Dad diagnosed me with stomach cancer,” I say, yawning.

“I’m with my oldest brother. He’s a doctor,” he answers. “Blaire has hyperemesis gravidarum.”

“English, please?” I ask, hoping the guy can send me the prescription to the pharmacy and I can skip the doctor.

“Excessive vomiting during pregnancy,” Pierce responds.

“No, I can’t be pregnant, “I protest. “Your brother is wrong.”

“Defensive,” Pierce highlights. “So, there’s a possibility.”

“Fuck!” I grunt. “I’ll call you later.”

I take a shower, change my clothes, and head to the pharmacy. Once I’m back, I stare at the boxes I bought. One of these seven tests has to be right. All of them say that they can give results as early as the first missed period. Checking my calendar, I realize that my last period was two weeks ago. It was light, but I had a period.

This is a waste of time.

Why am I even listening to Pierce and his brother?

Because he’s the second person who suggested the possibility, and unlike your mother, he is a real doctor.

Instead of taking the test, I head to the kitchen and look for some food. It’s to no surprise that I only find leftovers growing green stuff on top of them.

“This is a wakeup call,” I tell myself. “You’re not pregnant, but you’re unemployed. This is your opportunity to reinvent yourself.”

When I pick up the phone, I find a notification from Nate.

Nate: Call me when you’re back from work.

Nyx: It’s eleven your time, are you still up?

Nate: Heading back home from the office. It was a long ass day and it made me think of my favorite workaholic.

Reading his text, I start crying because I’m unemployed. My phone rings and it’s him.

“Hey,” I sniff.

“What happened?”

Between sobs, I tell him how my week has been going, and I can’t stop crying as I tell him that my boss threatened to take away my license.

“She won’t be able to touch you. Trust me. Her firm will be closed before she tries to file any documentation against you,” he assures me. “I need you to take a breath.”

“I’m trying, but I can’t stop crying,” I say angrily. “It’s like someone opened the fucking dam and the water flows freely. There’s no valve to stop this insanity. Let me call you when I feel less…or more…I’m not even sure