Page 7 of If the Ring Fits

“Yeah. I—we—are getting married… to… err… put down roots, be a family, you know, that kind of stuff?”

I pass a hand over my face. What the fuck am I blabbering?

“Yes, Adrian, I know.” Dominic chuckles. “That’s usually the reason why people get engaged. Why didn’t you say so right away? I’d love to meet the woman who’s managed to lock you down.”

Why? Why?Why? “Umm, the thing is… she… she’s pregnant. We’re having an heir—I mean a baby. But it’s still early days, and she’s been feeling sick a lot. I wasn’t sure if she’d be up for the trip to the Hamptons. But I called her and she said she wants to come and support me.”

There’s a long pause. “Wow Adrian, a baby? I had no idea! Congratulations, you must be thrilled to become a father,” Dominic replies, sounding genuinely happy for me.

“Thanks, we haven’t told many people yet since it’s still early on…” I trail off, my stomach churning with the enormity of the lie.

“Of course, I understand. Well, I look forward to meeting her!”

“Great, she’s excited to meet you too.” I hang up, feeling lightheaded. What the hell did I just do? I don’t have a fiancée to bring to the Hamptons, let alone a pregnant one. This lie is going to catch up to me so fast.

I can’t breathe. Glass or no, the walls of my office are closing in on me. I need to get out of here. I stumble out the door, unsteady on my feet. Wendy asks me something but I don’t hear her over the ringing in my ears. I have an objective, getting out of this building. I need fresh air. Now.

The elevator ride down takes forever, but I’m finally in the lobby. I eye the front doors but before I can reach them, a waveof nausea hits me. That sushi platter I had at lunch churns violently in my stomach. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Not here.

In a panic, my eyes snag on the public restroom in the corner.

I charge through the door, barely registering a cardboard box lying on the otherwise pristine tile floor. Ducking into the closest stall, I bend over the toilet just as my stomach heaves.

I cough and sputter, gripping the sides of the bowl.

As the first wave passes, I notice a strange sound. Glancing to my left, I realize with horror that someone is throwing up in the next stall, too.

5

ROWENA

Seven weeks pregnant

Flushing the remnants of my misery away, I slump back, my forehead beaded with sweat. In the momentary quiet, a deep, velvety voice drifts over the thin metal barrier, smooth and oddly calming despite the circumstances.

“Are you okay?”

The rich timbre sends a shudder down my spine, landing somewhere low in my belly. I try to keep my voice steady as I reply, “Not really. You?”

A scoff echoes off the walls. “Not even a little.”

I wince, feeling a strange camaraderie with this unseen stranger. Misery loves company, right? “What happened to you?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

There’s a heavy sigh, followed by a bitter chuckle. “I lied to my boss. Big time.”

A strangled sound escapes my throat, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Well, at least you still have a boss.” Myvoice cracks as I confess, “I just got fired. I don’t know what I’m going to do next.”

The weight of my words settles heavy in the air, mingling with the lingering scent of sickness as a dizzying spiral of worst-case scenarios flash before my eyes.

I squeeze my lids shut, willing the images away. I can’t break down, not here, not now. Not in front of this stranger with the sexy voice and his own set of problems.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Genuine empathy laces his words. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah, it is.” I nod miserably, forgetting for a moment that he can’t see me. “I guess we’re both having a pretty crappy day, huh?”

“Yep.”

I hear him pulling on the roll of toilet paper, probably to clean his mouth or something. I’m almost afraid he’s going to leave. Having him in here with me is weirdly consoling.

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