Wicked Ever After (Wicked & Devoted #2) - Shayla Black Page 0,21
retched again. Blasted morning sickness. She was nearly in week fifteen of her pregnancy. When the devil would it end?
This morning, she’d turned on her music in the bathroom, hoping it would disguise the sounds of her sickness, but Daddy was likely awake. What if he could hear her? How many more well-meaning lies would she have to tell him to keep her secret?
It was already too many.
After rising weakly from the floor, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and rinsed her mouth. The nausea wasn’t done with her yet; she knew that from experience. But after so much upheaval, her body felt weak.
She stumbled back to bed and grabbed her phone off her nightstand along the way. Five forty a.m.
Tears stabbed at her eyes. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d seen Pierce. She so badly wanted to call him, hear his gruff voice, confess how much she missed him. Tell him she still loved him. In her fantasy, he would say he loved her, too. Then she would confess they were having a baby, and he would be so happy, apologize for everything, propose instantly, and sweep her away to their happily ever after.
Brea shook her head at her own absurdity. Pierce had played her, and she’d loved him so much—or at least the man she’d believed him to be—that she had let him.
Finally, she’d ripped off her rose-colored glasses and resolved to face her future with eyes wide open.
She scrolled up from Pierce’s contact and dialed Cutter instead. She couldn’t put this off anymore.
He answered on the third ring. “Bre-Bee? You okay?”
“Hi, Cutter.” She could hear her own voice shaking, but she was determined to forge ahead.
“What’s going on?”
“I haven’t heard from you. Everything all right there? Your starlet a problem child?”
“No. Her situation is more complicated than I thought at first glance, but…” There was such a long pause, Brea wasn’t sure he actually intended to finish his sentence. Finally, he sighed. “I’ll figure it out.”
Something was troubling him. Since he almost never let a case get to him, whatever he was dealing with in California must be deeply problematic. “You always do. But I’m worried about you. You sound so tired.”
“Pacific time is two hours behind Central.”
“Oh, my gosh.” It wasn’t even four in the morning there. “I’m so sorry. I always mess up time zones…”
“What’s going on?”
In other words, why was she calling so early.
Though Cutter had offered to marry her, he probably wasn’t braced to hear her accept in the middle of the night. On the other hand, she’d already awakened him, so why hang up now? “Daddy is suspicious. I’m scared.”
“Tell me everything.”
She paraphrased her conversation with her father over supper the previous night.
Cutter didn’t sound at all surprised. “So you’re still having morning sickness?”
“Like crazy. Sometimes it lasts until evening, then suddenly I’m ravenous and eat everything in sight. It’s like my body isn’t my own anymore.” Same with her emotions. She’d read online that her hormones were irregular during pregnancy and might make her behavior unpredictable. That was certainly a nice way to put it.
“It’s not.”
He was right. And during her next appointment with the obstetrician in mid-December, the doctor had promised they would do an ultrasound to check the baby’s progress—and reveal the gender if she wanted to know.
What would her life be like by then? Even though she’d called Cutter to start their future together, Brea still couldn’t picture it.
Or maybe she was afraid to.
“Eventually your father is going to realize what’s going on. He’s going to see that your body is changing.”
Cutter was right. Her bras were getting uncomfortably tight. So were her pants. Layers of billowy winter clothes would help disguise her pregnancy for the next couple of months, but come spring? Nothing would hide the fact she was carrying a child.
“I know. No matter what I do, I’m going to hurt someone. I’ve worried that I either have to risk my father with a heart condition or make a choice that goes against my moral code. And then there’s you… I can’t bear the thought of ruining your life.”
“You have enough to worry about right now without worrying about me.”
“But—”
“Brea, you’re not going to have an abortion.”
“No.” Even if her religious upbringing didn’t forbid it, her heart did. She wanted this baby.
“You’re not going to tell your father that you hooked up with a guy you have no intention of marrying and got pregnant.”