Page 72 of Tormenting Me

I’ll never stop protecting her and our soon-to-be children, from the scourges of our city. Layne knows I don’t intend to stop, and she supports me one hundred percent. Our future is unknown, but I’m eagerly awaiting the unfolding of our story.

I belong to Ma Petite Mort, and she possesses me entirely. Even after death, our bond will remain unbroken and our love will continue to exist.

Chapter forty-three

Layne

Three and half weeks later:

Life is back to normal after getting home from Scotland. Our honeymoon was absolutely perfect, the type of trip that women dream of when they get married. I’ve been non-stop nauseous since we came home. Wes has tried naming off probable causes: time changes, traveling, or catching something on the plane. Just my luck, returning from the best vacation ever only to get sick.

Story of my fucking life.

Wes left for work an hour ago, and I haven’t made any effort to leave the comfort of my bed. I even called into work today because I feel like utter trash. I sent Kris and Atlas a text to let them know I wasn’t feeling well. Kris promptly texted back that she hopes I feel better. Atlas has yet to respond. I sit up in bed and grab my phone from its charger and as I stand up, I’m hit with a wave of nausea. “Oh, no!” I make a break for the bathroom, almost not making it.

After throwing up everything in my stomach, I sit back against the glass shower door. My phone pings twice. I let out a deep breath and retrieve my phone from my pocket.

Atlas: Sick, huh?

Atlas: Pregnant?

“Oh, shit!” I realize that could be it. Opening up my cycle tracking app on my phone, I stare at it. The circle in the center reads, “LATE.” I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach as I process the implications of my late period. Could it be possible? Could I actually be pregnant? The thought sends a jolt of excitement and anxiety through my body. I quickly calculate the timing in my head, realizing that it aligns perfectly with our honeymoon in Scotland.

As the realization sinks in, a million thoughts race through my mind. Do I text Wes? Better find out if you’re actually pregnant first. I shake off my thoughts and focus on my immediate concern — my health. With every ounce of strength, I push myself up, my body quivering with exhaustion. I clean myself up and make my way back to bed, clutching my phone tightly.

With trembling hands, I open a search engine on my phone and type in the symptoms of early pregnancy. Nausea, fatigue, and missed periods all come up as common signs. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, and a mix of emotions washes over me. Excitement, fear, and uncertainty swirl in my mind.

I need my best friend right now.

I dial Atlas’s number.

“Bitch, I swear if you tell me you’re just playing hooky, I’m gonna slap you when I see you.” He laughs, I can almost see his shoulders shaking.

“Have you left for work already?” I look at the clock that hangs on the wall above over bed.

“I’m just getting ready to head out. Why?” I can hear the suspicion in his tone.

“Can you do me a favor?” I sit back down on the bed. My hand lingers on my stomach, pondering the possibility of a baby inside.

“La La?” His voice is more concerned than anything now.

“I — I need you to bring me a pregnancy test.” I bite my lip. “Please.”

“Holy shit balls! 10-4 rubber ducky. I am on it. See you in like fifteen minutes.” He hangs up and I fall back onto the bed.

Is this really happening?

I lay on the bed, overwhelmed by the realization that I might be pregnant. Thoughts of what this could mean for Wes and me flood my mind. Am I ready for this? Are we financially stable enough? How will our lives change? The uncertainty is both exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time.

Minutes feel like hours as I anxiously wait for Atlas to arrive with the pregnancy test. I try to distract myself by scrolling through social media, but my mind keeps wandering back to the possibility of a baby. My phone pings and it Atlas.

Atlas: Gate code?

Layne: 102623

Atlas: Your wedding date? Wes is so unoriginal…

The sound of a car door slamming outside jolts me out of my thoughts and I rush to the front door, anticipation coursing through my veins. Atlas stands there, holding a small bag with a reassuring smile on his face. “I got you, girl,” he says, handing me the bag. “Now let’s find out what’s going on.”

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