Page 71 of Baby I'm Yours

“Today is going to be better,” I tell him every morning. “Today we’re going to get over the hump and start missing him less.”

Some days, I almost believe it.

Then, exactly two weeks and sixteen hours after I left New York, I wake up with gorge surging up my throat. I barely make it to the bathroom before losing my dinner from the night before into the toilet.

“Oh, no,” I whisper to the chunks of undigested lasagna. “No, no, no. I’m not pregnant. I can’t be.”

But after a glance at my planner, I realize that my period is late. Two days late, in fact. I’ve just been too upset to notice.

And I amneverlate.

Hanging the “Closed for the Day: Be Back Tomorrow” sign on the door, I shower, brush my teeth, and kill an hour pacing my apartment with Captain Crunchypants in my arms.

The Sea Breeze Pharmacy opens at eight. I’m there at 8:01, buying three different brands of pregnancy tests. The clerk, Mrs. Henderson, one of my mom’s friends from church, shoots me a concerned look but doesn’t comment.

Thank goodness.

I don’t think I could stand feeling like any more of a disappointment to my late mother’s memory than I do already.

Mom would be so upset with me. She taught me to know better than to put my safety and future at risk for a man.

Back home, I line the tests up on the bathroom counter like soldiers facing a firing squad. Captain Crunchypants watches from his perch on the edge of the bathtub as I follow the instructions with trembling fingers.

Three minutes.

Three minutes to remember every moment with Hunter. Every kiss, every touch, every time he came inside me because we were trying for this very thing.

Three minutes to imagine his reaction to this news.

Will he be even colder? More brutal? Is there a chance he might even try to take my baby away from me?

I know he doesn’t want to raise our child, but he might not wantmeto raise him or her, either. He might decide to become a single father and have our baby raised by a flock of nannies, just to punish me.

Billionaires can do things like that. That amount of money buys the power to ensure the justice systemalwaysworks in your favor.

I have three minutes to wonder if he might actually hate me that much.

Three minutes that change everything…

“Oh God.” I sink to the floor, one hand pressed to my still-flat stomach. Captain Crunchypants hobbles over, butting his head against my knee as tears slip down my face.

The tests were positive. Every single one.

“What am I going to do?” I whisper.

But I already know. I’m going to have this baby, and I’m going to love my child with everything in me.

And I’m never going to tell Hunter about the miracle we made together.

He’s right—a clean break is best. I want a break so clean that I never have to make contact with Hunter Mendelssohn again. It would hurt too much. I don’t want his money or a nice condo in the city.

I want the man I love back in love with me, and excited about starting a family together.

And if I can’t have that…

“I can do it by myself,” I tell the Captain, cuddling him close. “Mom did it. I can do it, too.”

He stretches his neck, licking the tears from my face, as if to say, “You won’t be alone, girl. You’ll always have me.”

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