Page 9 of Unspoken Obsession

I was supposed to start two weeks ago.

I'm late. And I'm throwing up first thing in the morning.

Oh shit. Oh no. this cannot be happening.

I turn back towards the stairs and run up to my bedroom again, grabbing my phone and my handbag. I need to get to a pharmacy.

Luckily, my father is out at meetings this morning, so I can get there and back before he returns home. The security guard that comes with me can wait in the car. He doesn't need to see what I'm getting.

"Keith, I need you to take me to the drugstore, please. I need tampons." I say, walking towards the front door.

"Yes, Ms. Musetti." He's red in the face.

He'll report the trip to my father, and I'll tell my father I needed female products. Easy.

All the way there, my stomach is in a knot.

If I'm pregnant, there is only one potential father. The man at the gala event. The masked stranger. I don't even know his name.

Does it even matter?

How can I keep a baby and raise it in this world - my father's world? A world filled with violence, fear, and death.

The poor child would be in constant danger under the constant and oppressive rule of my father.

It is not a good life. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

My bodyguard parks right outside the pharmacy and gets ready to get out of the car. "You can wait here. I will only be a few minutes." I say, pushing the door open. He looks skeptical for a second but then nods. Thank God.

I hurry inside, grateful that he can't see me through the shop windows. I grab two pregnancy tests and run to the counter to pay for them.

I shove the brown paper packet deep into my purse and walk back out to the car, trying to act calm and casual.

All the way home, I am thinking about my options. I am trying to consider the best possible outcome, the best future, and the best choice to make - and the more I think about it, the more I realize that there is no way I would ever want to give this baby up.

My baby.

I need to keep the little one safe from this horrible world.

At home, I rush upstairs to my bedroom and shut the door.

In the bathroom I open both tests, peeing on both of them, and then I sit on the edge of the bath waiting.

Counting down the seconds, not daring to peek at the results.

My phone beeps - telling me the time is up.

I shake my head, taking a deep breath. "Frankie - you'll be ok, no matter what the result is."

I stand up and walk to the counter and stare down at both tests - both of them say the same thing.

I am pregnant.

It only takes me a few days to decide about what I want for the future of my baby.

When I made choices for myself, accepting my father's word as final was easy, as he made the decisions. However, the choice I need to make now is not about me.

It's about my baby.

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