Page 88 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
I wasn’t pregnant.
Couldn’t be.
The universe wouldn’t be that sadistic.
The night before Megan left, Federico called. I stared at his name on my phone screen, heart hammering. For a moment, I considered not answering. But something—curiosity, maybe, or that traitorous part of me that still missed him—made me accept.
“Hello?” My voice was steadier than I felt.
“Autumn.” Just my name, the way he said it, made my chest tighten. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I said automatically. “Megan’s here.”
“I know.” A pause. “Is she... has it been good to have her there?”
“Yes.” I hesitated. “Thank you. For arranging it.”
“It was the least I could do.”
The conversation was stilted, awkward in a way we’d never been before. Even in the beginning, when we barely knew each other, words had flowed more easily than this.
“Autumn, I—” he sighed. “I miss you.”
Three simple words. They shouldn’t have had the power to make tears spring to my eyes, but they did.
“Don’t,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry. I just... I needed you to know.” His voice was rough. “I understand if you’re not ready to see me. I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
“I’m not,” I confirmed, though part of me wasn’t sure if that was still true. “Not ready, I mean.”
“I understand.” He paused again. “I’m ready to wait however long you need. If there’s anything—”
“I know,” I cut him off, not wanting to hear more, afraid of what it might do to my restraint. “I have to go.”
I hung up before he could say anything else, before I did something foolish like tell him I missed him, too.
***
After Megan left, the apartment felt too quiet. Beatrice was working more hours, and I found myself alone with my thoughts—never a good place to be.
The nausea and fatigue hadn’t subsided. If anything, it was getting worse.
Megan’s joke kept echoing in my head.Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.
Five days after she had returned to school, I finally gave in and checked my period tracker app. The date of my last period glared back at me, accusatory in its distance. I was over two weeks late.
Fuck. I had been so stressed out with everything, so caught up in Federico first, then the pain he caused me, that I completely forgot I hadn’t gotten my period.
“No,” I whispered to the empty room. “No, no, no.”
I rushed to the nearest pharmacy, bought a test with shaking hands, and returned to Beatrice’s apartment. The three minutes I waited for the result were the longest of my life.
I watched as a second pink line slowly appeared.
My breath caught.
The air shifted.
