Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,53

classes, and maybe even places to exercise while I’m pregnant. My doctor retired back in February. I should text Persy and see if she has a new one. Why bother. I said I’d be the one finding us someone new. I’m sure she’s waiting for me to do it.

Once we land, Nate announces that the car is already waiting for us. The driver welcomes us and then takes care of the luggage we brought. Nate keeps his computer with him and once the car drives away, he says, “I hope you don’t mind. I have to answer some emails.”

“Don’t worry about me. I swear, I’m pretty independent,” I assure him.

So much so that I can go a couple of days without communicating my whereabouts. I’m the one who reaches out to my siblings most of the time. I guess that’s our dynamic. It occurs to me that I should text Eros and Persy about… I frown at my phone, realizing that for the first time we haven’t spoken to each other for this long—since Saturday.

They haven’t noticed, which isn’t strange. Persy is in the honeymoon period of her relationship, falling more and more in love with Ford.

While Eros…what is his excuse?

When I look at Nate, I remember that he’s working hard to make sure that his business not only takes off, but soars. All of us are too busy to think about the others, and as the glue, I make sure that at least I reach out to them.

Nyx: My life sucks. I’m taking a break. Let’s talk once I’m back in town.

Persy: Where are you going?

Nyx: Out of town.

Eros: Evasive. You either robbed a bank or kidnapped Nate’s dog.

Persy: Nate is in Seattle. It has to be something else.

Eros: He was here yesterday and visited our parents today—with Nyx.

Nyx: How did you know?

Eros: I was pulling into the house when you two were leaving. Dad said you have some news for us.

Persy: You’re pregnant, aren’t you?

Eros: What? Who knocked you up? If it was Nathaniel, I’ll kill him.

Persy: She just met him. Unless he has some kind of supernatural sperm, I doubt he’s the father.

Eros: Where are you going, Andromeda?

Persy: To Seattle with Nate.

Nyx: How do you know?

Persy: He’s texting Ford and said he saved you from our parents.

Nyx: They are hovering.

Persy: I wouldn’t expect less from Edna. Octavio…Dad…well, it’s you. You’re his unrecognized favorite. Do you need me to meet you in Seattle?

Nyx: Thank you, but I need some me time.

Persy: Why there and not at home?

Nyx: Oh, I got fired on Tuesday. I’m selling my place. Demetri is packing the stuff I left behind and storing it.

Persy: Work for me and don’t sell your house. You love the place.

Nyx: The school district is terrible. There aren’t many parks around for the kid to play. Though I might accept the job if you don’t mind letting me have a couple of months of maternity leave.

Persy: Yay, I get to exploit my sister and finally pay her. When can you start?

Nyx: You’re ridiculous. Let me…

Persy: I know. You have to trace a plan before you can restart. Are you okay about the baby?

Nyx: Yes, but I feel...I don’t feel anything yet. You know how you see those mothers that are gushing about their unborn child as soon as they learn they are pregnant?

Persy: What does that have to do with you?

Nyx: I’m not like them. So far, I don’t feel like a mother. What if I can’t love this baby?

Persy: I’m sure it works differently for everyone.

Eros: Dude, you’ll be fine. You’re the most maternal of my three sisters. You just need time to get used to the idea of having a baby. Congrats by the way.

Nyx: Love you both.

Persy: Call us if you need us.

Eros: Same.

The car comes to a roundabout with a fountain at the center, sweeps around it, and continues up toward a fantastic sprawling house. It is a Mediterranean style home with a stucco exterior, covered with tile rooftop, and oriented around a central courtyard. It’s twice as big as my house and surrounded by trees that seem to hide the place.

“It is right by Lake Washington,” I state as I spot the waterfront.

“You thought I was exaggerating?”

“No, just…this is beautiful,” I say in awe.

Though the place is beautiful, the interiors make it feel…cold. “Needs some TLC.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s elegant. Don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t feel as if someone lives here,” I conclude.

“The interior designer—”

I glance at him judgingly. “Seriously, you hired

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