Page 80 of Selfish Desires

As the car's engine purred, I glanced through the tinted windows. The sun painted the city in hues of orange and pink, casting a glow over buildings that showcased the beauty of a new day. I couldn't help but think of Wendy and the sunrise we had once watched from our favorite Central Park spot.

A moment later, the passenger door opened, and Zachary slid next to me, holding two coffee cups—one brick red and the other white. He handed me the white cup silently. “Blair’s Americano. I figured a little caffeine would help both of us.”

“Thanks.” I took the coffee from him. The warmth spread through my hands, granting a momentary calm.

“For what it's worth, I'm sorry about what you and Wendy are going through,” Zachary said, looking out the window. His face was stern, but there was a glimmer of empathy in his eyes.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I took the first sip of coffee, feeling the bitter taste of it and regret on my tongue. “Me too.” I winced. Shit, this coffee was strong.

“Is something wrong?” Zachary stared at me as I smacked my lip, studying the coffee.

“I almost forgot how strong Blair’s coffee tasted.” Although, I never remembered her coffee tasting anything but rich and smooth. Not like this bitter, sour concoction in my hand.

Zachary chuckled, a dry sound barely registered in the car's quiet interior. “It does take some getting used to,” he admitted, wrapping his hands around his cup. He took a sip and smiled. “Nothing wrong with mine.” Zachary raised his drink.

And that was when my eyelids felt impossibly heavy, like I swallowed a sleeping pill bottle. I wanted to speak, say anything, ask Zachary to let me out of the car, but nothing fell from my mouth. My head spun, and I tried to fight the waves of darkness threatening to pull me under. My heart pounded in my ears, and my vision blurred, turning Zachary into a hazy mess of colors. I strained to keep my eyes open, but it was a losing battle.

“Zach...” My voice, softer than a whisper, barely made it out of my mouth before the world around me faded. I tried fighting the drowsiness descending on me, but I was losing. My body sagged against the seat as my gaze faded, and the heavy cup slid from my loose fingers, spilling onto my lap, but I felt nothing.

Zachary turned to look at me, his smile vanishing. “Goodnight, Vincent.”

This couldn’t be happening, but it was happening. I sat on the cold floor, staring in disbelief at the white stick with two red lines in my trembling hand. How was this even happening? Maybe I had gotten sloppy with my birth control a few times leading up to Vincent’s second departure, but I didn’t think this would happen. After being on a contraceptive for years, I thoroughly believed it would take months for my body to remember what it was built to do naturally.

Well, I was fucking wrong.

I hadn’t spoken to Vincent despite his incessant calls and messages. During his absence, even I had to admit it wasn’t the same as the last time he disappeared, but it wasn’t about that. It was about this fear he couldn’t shake to allow him to let us flourish as a team. Was this going to be a representation for the rest of our lives? I refused to wait around for him to see this realization. Now I had something even bigger to worry about: a baby.

I must have been lost in my blaring thoughts when the doorknob jiggled twice, and the door swung ajar, revealing Marissa’s head, whose eyes shot down to the positive test in my hand.

“Shit, Wendy,” Marissa muttered, her eyes wide as dinner plates. She closed the door behind her and entered the cramped bathroom, slowly sinking onto the cool tile floor beside me. Her hand reached out, hovering over mine that still clutched the positive test. “Are you going to tell Vincent?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I nodded, my free hand scrubbing at my face. It felt like I hadn’t slept in weeks. In fact, I probably hadn't. “Of course,” I said quietly, not wanting to further confront my reality. “I haven’t spoken to him since I left weeks ago. What a great way to start talking again.”

Marissa nodded as though she expected that answer. She inhaled before looking at me, her dark eyes full of concern. “What can I do? You know I’m here for you and support your decision about the baby. Even if you decide not to keep it…” Marissa trailed off as my head shot up.

“I’m keeping the baby. It’s not even a question.” I straightened my posture. “I’m forty-two. Despite the wacky circumstances, this could be my one chance at having a child. I know what I want to do.”

Marissa nodded, offering me a weak smile as she reached to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Then we'll deal with this. Together.”

I broke down into sobs, burying my face in her shoulder. Marissa didn't say anything else. Her presence was a wordless comfort I needed desperately.

“Are you scared?” she asked quietly.

I kept my face hidden in my hands longer before looking up at her. My eyes bored into hers, raw with vulnerability. “Terrified,” I admitted. But not for the reasons she might think.

This baby wasn’t just a result of a careless night or contraceptive failure. It was a product of love, fierce and consuming. The love I had for Vincent was as undeniable as it was terrifying. It had survived years of separation, heartbreak, and disappointment. Despite everything he had put me through—despite everything we had put each other through—I still loved him.

But loving him meant facing his demons, his past that always crept its way back to him. Did I have the strength to bear it? Could I stand strong not only for myself but also for this unborn child? The thought made me shiver despite the stifling warmth of the room.

Marissa squeezed my hand, jolting me back from my thoughts. She was still there beside me—steady, unwavering Marissa—her presence grounding me like an anchor in rough seas.

“I’m here for you, Wendy. And we’ll figure this out. You’re not alone, okay?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. I wasn’t alone. But soon, I would have to face Vincent. How was he going to react when he found out? Would he run? Or would this give him a reason to finally stay? Did I want this baby to serve as a reason for him to stay? Vincent should just want to stay.

Of course, to complicate and confuse everyone, there hadn’t been any threats or obvious ones I knew about. So, I had no idea what happened and when Vincent planned to return. “You really are the best, you know that, right?” I lifted my gaze to meet Marissa’s warm orbs, casting an eternal glow of sincerity, enough to bathe me for life.

She gave a soft smile, her eyes sympathetic. “I'm just doing what any best friend would do.”

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