Page 11 of The Doctor's Twins

“I know, right.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have to tell him. Perhaps he’ll be less of an asshole if he knows I’m carrying our baby.”

“I hope so. For your sake and the baby’s. But, Peyton,” Lula said and held my hand, “I wouldn’t bank on it if I were you. I’m sorry, you may not want to hear this, but you can coat a turd in powdered sugar, but it will always be a turd.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Promise me you’ll call me if you need help.”

“Thank you, Lula. I promise.”

It was sweet of her to offer, but I wasn’t going to unleash Mateo’s fury on anyone else. Besides, I’d learned how to handle my volatile husband. Things were honestly getting better.

* * *

Mateo and I had just made love. I couldn’t believe that he could be that tender. It was as if the old Mateo was back. Had we finally settled into some kind of normalcy? I was more hopeful than ever.

“I have a surprise for you, babe,” I said.

“I don't think anything can top the surprise you just gave me, but okay. I’m all ears.”

I opened my nightstand drawer and took out the third pregnancy test I’d done that morning. The line was dark and unmistakable. I handed it to him with a great deal of pride and enthusiasm.

Mateo stared at the stick for a while and then back at my smiling face. The look in his eyes scared the crap out of me.

“What the fuck is this?” he growled.

I was so stunned by his reaction; I couldn’t speak for a moment.

“You’re pregnant? What the fuck would you go and do that for? Our lives are perfect. Why would you go and fuck it up?” he shouted.

“I…”

Mateo snapped the test in half and threw the pieces at me. Then, he leaped out of bed, got dressed, and disappeared into the night, leaving me utterly shell-shocked.

Count your blessings, you fool. At least he didn’t beat the crap out of you this time!

4

MATEO

“Stupid cunt!” I shouted as I gripped and wrung my steering wheel so tightly my knuckles went white.

How was this possible? Peyton was on the pill. Did she lie to me about that? I saw her take the fucking things every morning.

The last thing I wanted was a bloody kid. No little snot-nosed brat was going to ruin my fucking lifestyle. I had enough experience at the orphanage with fucking brats. Kids everywhere were the same—worthless noise bags! It was a deal breaker for sure. I wasn’t going to flush my hard-earned money down the toilet providing for kids. I was stuck in a nightmare. This whole marriage thing was a mindfuck.

Peyton was an intelligent woman. A doctor, no less. I was sure she was committed to her profession—that’s why I married her. Now, she was ruining everything. A fucking baby! There was only one way forward. Peyton would have to get rid of the kid.

Fuck! I was so stressed. I called Pedro.

“Hey, buddy,” he said when he answered.

“I need a fucking drink. You up for it?”

“Of course.”

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