Page 380 of The Tempted

Chapter Eighteen

Here we go again.

I removed Riggs’ arms from me and hurried out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. Routinely, I dropped to my knees and pulled my hair back bowing my head surrendering to the nausea. I’m not sure how long this vomiting business can go on. At some point doesn’t the baby need for me to sustain food to grow?

After the initial shock wore off, and I told the women I was pregnant, they tried to make me feel better and told me I was glowing.

I was most definitely not glowing.

But hey, thanks for trying guys.

I don’t know what made me blurt the truth to my mother. I’m going to blame all my craziness on the hormones and pray that after I give birth they find some sort of chemical imbalance so I can continue the charade.

To say my mother went ballistic would put things mildly. Very mildly. She lost her shit, and rightfully so; I suppose. She hates Riggs.

But she didn’t have to do what she did.

It wasn’t her place to tell him.

Yet, as pissed as I am, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was relieved too.

I decided there was no right way to tell a man you slept with once, who blew you off and crippled your self-esteem, that you were having his child.

Now everything was out in the open and he had a choice to make.

I prepared myself for the blow, knowing very well he doesn’t want a kid but he didn’t outright say that.

Not yet anyway.

He didn’t say much of anything.

I wonder if he even remembers. Oh, God, please let him remember. I don’t think I could go through that again.

He knocked on the door as I flushed the toilet.

“I’ll be right out,” I called, making my way to the sink and rinsing my face. The cold water instantly made me feel better, but still, I wished I had a toothbrush. I grabbed the bottle of mouthwash he kept on the ledge of the sink and gurgled until the foul taste left my mouth.

I opened the door and spotted Riggs sitting on the foot of the bed, yawning as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Hi,” I said, leaning against the frame of the door, not really sure where we go from here.

“You okay?” he asked, tipping his head toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gotten used to it,” I replied, watching his face for some sort of reaction, not even sure what it was I was expecting.

He nodded, his eyes dipping down to my stomach momentarily before looking away.

This was going awesome!

“I should go,” I stammered, pushing off the frame of the door.

“Go where?”

“Home, my brother’s house. I’m assuming this whole lockdown thing is over with, right? I’m a free bird so I’ll just fly away and get out of your hair,” I rambled.

“Stop it, Lauren,” he said, causing me to look at him.

“You’re pregnant for Christ sake and you didn’t get that way by yourself,” he hissed, lifting his eyes to mine. “C’mere,” he ordered, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.

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