My Fake Husband (A Secret Baby Romance) - Page 52

Trixie, this is your husband. My sister is in the ER probably losing the baby. I want you to know. I want to hear your voice. I’m afraid she’s having a miscarriage, and afraid what it’ll do to Brody and her. I need you more than I ever imagined I could need anyone. And I’m scared because I keep imagining it’s you in there on a gurney, losing our baby, bleeding and scared, and it makes me feel like I’m dying just to imagine that. Come home to me. Please.

I couldn’t confess all that. Not to a voicemail recording. I shook my head and went inside to be with my family.

21

Trixie

“I just can’t, okay? “ I said.

“Stop being pitiful. This isn’t bad,” my sister insisted.

“Oh my God, you are the worst,” I said. “You’re so freakin’ mean on Keto. I’m gonna force feed you bread and get myself some sympathy. Don’t tell me not to freak out.”

“Well, it wouldn’t do any good. You’ve been so damn dramatic your whole life.”

“I’m older. How in hell would you know how I’ve been my whole life when you weren’t born.”

“Let’s see—Mom and Dad never mentioned that you were an unusually calm toddler and suddenly turned so extra after I came along, so I can assume you were always like this. Anything happens and you are straight up doom and gloom. I’m really just glad you didn’t go into health care. You’d scare the shit out of every patient. You’d be like, this could be really bad, so prepare yourself.”

“I’m not that bad. Okay, maybe right now I am, but not all the time,” I sighed. “I just can’t believe this happened.”

“Babe, you had a lot of sex. And you’re pregnant. That’s how biology works. I mean, technically you only have to do it once, but I think the amount of sex you and Damon had probably increased your odds of getting knocked up.”

“You are no help at all,” I moaned. “I’m on the pill. I don’t even understand how this could happen. I’m not supposed to ovulate.”

“Well, don’t yell at me, sis. Yell at your ovaries. They must’ve got excited that you were getting some action after all this time,” she laughed.

“You are snort laughing during my crisis. Leave me alone to panic in peace,” I said.

“Nope. It’s my bathroom. This is my only sanctuary to get away from the kids. I’m not leaving. You’re stuck with me. So how you feeling? Apart from shocked that you can get pregnant on the pill.”

“I know it’s not a hundred percent effective, but this is just embarrassing. I’m thirty-four years old, single and in debt.”

“Excuse me. You’re not single. You’re married. To the father of your baby. Isn’t that, like, the ideal way to get pregnant?”

“It’s not a real marriage and you know it.”

“Seems like there was a lot of fucking going on for it to be in name only,” she snorted.

“I’m buying you a bag of potatoes, I swear to God,” I said.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is I’m standing in my sister’s bathroom looking at two positive pregnancy tests. My problem is this was an accident. My problem is I’m in love with a man who doesn’t love me and who only married me as a huge favor and we’re getting divorced in a few months. How can I tell him I’m pregnant? He’ll want to stay married to me out of obligation and then, bam. I ruined his chances of ever being happy.”

“He’s not unhappy. Men who have that much sex are not unhappy. My husband is lucky to get it once a week and he’s happy.”

“Too much information, and, again, absolutely not helpful.”

“I am very helpful. I gave you those pregnancy tests, didn’t I? I had them in my cabinet from when we were trying to get pregnant a couple years ago.”

“Fine, so you have a fully stocked bathroom cabinet and no sympathy for your knocked up sister,” I grumbled.

“You are the grouchiest pregnant woman I ever met,” Kiera said. “And you just have to tell him the truth. You didn’t plan this. It just happened.”

“He’ll think I’m trying to trap him. I have to divorce him before he finds out.”

Kiera rolled her eyes. “Be a grown-up, please. I’ve known him all my life just like you have. He’s not that kind of guy. Tell him the truth and trust him to know you wouldn’t try to trap him. He called you. Call him back. Tell him.”

“I can’t tell him this over the phone. I’m embarrassed enough as it is. Then I call him and say, what? I was screening because I peed on a stick and congratulations you’re going to be a father?”

“That’s classy. Say that about the pee.”

“I’ll just have to tell him when I get home tomorrow. Which means I should go lay awake until morning and then drive home.”

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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