Page 87 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
“Yeah?”
“Earlier. You said you’ve spoken to Federico before. When? How?”
As far as I knew, Megan and Federico had never spoken.
Megan looked confused. “I thought you knew.” She leaned forward and took my hand. “He called me a couple of times to help coordinate some payments. Said he’s doing it because you asked. My tuition, housing, meal plan, insurance, everything.”
“What?” I nearly knocked over the cup of tea. “Since when?”
“Since about a month ago,” she shrugged. “The transfers never stopped. In fact, last month he increased it—added car insurance, even a monthly allowance for books and supplies, and, believe it or not, the occasional night out in town.”
I stared at her, stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew.” She looked confused. “He told me you knew.”
I shook my head, trying to process this. “I didn’t. Why would he do that?”
“Maybe because he actually cares about you? About us?” Megan suggested. “Look, I don’t know what you fought about. But he’s still taking care of you. Of us. He transferred next semester’s tuition this morning. And he was so worried when he called, Autumn. He said you needed me immediately. He bought me a seat on the first flight out. I mean…who does that?”
I didn’t know what to think. It didn’t make sense. If Federico had only married me as some twisted power play, why continue supporting Megan after I’d left?
Why call her? Because he thought I needed her?
What did he get out of it?
The next morning, I woke up feeling sick to my stomach. I barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up what little I’d eaten the night before.
“Are you okay?” Megan called through the door.
“Fine,” I groaned, rinsing my mouth. “Must have been something I ate.”
But the nausea persisted over the next few days. I blamed stress, lack of sleep, and the emotional toll of everything that had happened. Megan watched me with growing concern as I picked at my food, as waves of fatigue hit me at random hours.
“You don’t look so good,” she said on her third day, as I slumped on the couch after another bout of nausea.
“Thanks for the confidence boost.”
“I’m serious, Autumn.” She pressed her hand to my forehead. “No fever, but you’re definitely off. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“It’s just stress.”
“Or a stomach bug.” She paused, then grinned slyly. “Or don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“Why not? You’re married. You’ve been living with the guy for three months.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Unless you’ve been practicing abstinence?”
“Megan!” I threw a pillow at her. “I’m not pregnant. It’s impossible.”
Except... was it?
Federico and I had slept together more than once. We’d never used protection. I’d just assumed... what?
That fate wouldn’t be that cruel?
“Relax, I’m kidding,” Megan laughed. “Just take care of yourself, okay? I’m heading back to school in two days, and I don’t want to leave you sick.”
I pushed the thought away.
