Page 41 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

The eggs were suddenly so unappealing that I lost my appetite altogether, and I dropped the idea of eating for the time being.

Instead, I pulled myself into the bathroom and turned the shower on, hoping a rinse would help me wake up and feel more like myself. Stripping down, I stepped beneath the spray of water and let that warmth surround me.

All the while I cleaned myself, eyes closed while I savored that comfort, my mind drifted to Damien and the latest advancements on that front.

Ever since the Levov/Novikov event when he expressed his intense interest in me, I saw and heard very little of him. It was almost odd to not see him lingering and trying to insert himself wherever possible. Instead, the office had been very quiet in regards to him, and I didn’t know what to think about it.

A part of me felt guilty since I could only assume it had to do with my lack of response, and how we left everything unaddressed.

I didn’t imagine that helped his inner torment very much, but at the same time, he did unload that confession on me at an unideal time, and it was more desperate than I anticipated from him. Needless to say, it caught me by surprise, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

In all fairness, I could’ve tried harder to keep my composure, but I just hadn’t been ready. I didn’t think a man like Damien was capable of being infatuated.

I had to admit, as the days passed and that unusual radio silence came from him, I started to miss it. I missed the temptation…the feeling of being wanted and needed.

In that absence, I even found myself missing how aggravating he could be…

Reaching for the conditioner, I sighed, realizing it was empty and I forgot to throw it away.

Pulling back the curtain, I carefully stepped out of the shower, trying to avoid getting too much water all over while I opened the cupboard beneath the sink and reached for a new bottle.

Securing the bottle and pulling it out, it bumped into the box of tampons I stored down there, and after staring at them for a moment, I froze.

The shower continued to run behind me while I stood there completely naked, listening to the faint drops of water as they hit the floor. That incessant sound seemed to punctuate the otherwise quiet bathroom all the while my mind ran in circles.

Running through the mental math as quickly as I could, my heart dropped.

I hadn’t had my period. I was late by at least a week.

As that realization dawned on me, my heart nearly stopped.

It was unlike me to let something like that slip by me entirely.

But that couldn’t be right. I was on birth control. Even when me and Damien had sex, I was on the pill. It couldn’t be…

Unable to wait another moment, I snapped back into myself again and quickly turned the shower off before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around me.

With tunnel vision, I moved into my bedroom and raced over to my nightstand, pulling the foil pack out of the top drawer.

All the while, my hands shook, I looked down at the tiny pink pills and counted them, realizing immediately that something was off. The current day and the number left didn’t match up.

I missed one.

Somehow, some way, I missed one.

That dread in my stomach only lingered the longer I stood there in my towel and thought about it.

I missed a pill, and my period was late.

Feeling dizzy for a moment as it all hit me at once, I braced myself against the side of my bed and tried to get my mind to catch up. To be okay enough to think more clearly and decide on my next move.

It seemed almost impossible to achieve, but I pulled in a deep breath to steady myself.

Even if the odds seemed stacked against me, I couldn’t lose my mind yet. I didn’t have any kind of confirmation on what I assumed was going on, and I had to know for sure.

After urging myself to breathe and pull it together, I eventually managed to dry myself off and pulled some relaxed clothes on. I moved numbly all the while I grabbed my wallet and phone, put my shoes on, and eventually left my apartment.

The idea of being pregnant alone was enough to make it seem like my legs weren’t really carrying me. Instead, it felt like I was only floating, trained solely on reaching where I needed to go and getting to the bottom of what was happening to me.

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