Marina
Ilie on my side with my knees pulled up and the covers bunched around my waist, waiting for Elira.
I texted her an hour ago asking her to come over, and after a week of the nausea and fatigue, I've had enough.
I need relief, and she's supposed to be bringing me peptic syrup or antacid tablets, though I don't hold out much hope for either of them working.
Every morning, I wake up with the taste of bile in the back of my throat.
No matter what I eat, it gets worse, and no matter how much I sleep, I can't seem to feel rested.
I told her about it a week ago, and she insisted that I'm pregnant, but I refuse to believe it.
Besides, I can't go to our family doctor without my father knowing, which is never going to happen.
So I did the only thing I could do. I called on my best friend.
When her light knock comes on my door, I groan inwardly but I force myself up in bed and pull the covers higher over my chest. "It's open," I say.
Elira walks in and closes the door behind her quietly.
When she sits down on the edge of the bed, it jostles and shakes my belly, making my stomach roll again.
I can't seem to get a handle on this sense that I'm going to vomit suddenly, and I press my eyes shut hoping to quash the bile rising in the back of my throat.
"I'm scared," I whisper, because I'm terrified.
An unplanned pregnancy was definitely not part of my "adventure of a lifetime" plan.
I got so carried away having sex with Stepan, I never stopped to think what would happen if I wound up knocked up.
And we had unprotected sex at least a dozen times so far.
"Marina, you've been nauseous for a week.
" She sighs and rests her hand on my knee.
"You cried at a laundry detergent commercial the other day.
" I almost laugh at her because it sounds ridiculous, but it's true.
And in public, no less. We were having lunch at a bar and the TV was on, and I almost lost it.
"It could be stress," I mumble, still not willing to believe I've messed my life up this badly. And to think Stepan wants to marry me too. What would he do if he found out there's a chance I'm carrying his baby?
"It's not stress." She reaches into her purse and pulls out a small pink box. "Take the test. If I'm wrong, we'll laugh about it tomorrow over coffee. If I'm right, we need to know now and not in three weeks when the options get smaller."
I let my head fall back against the headboard and groan, but I know she's right.
It's not like I have many options. I've heard what they do to abort a baby and I'm just not comfortable letting any doctor touch me like that—ever.
Besides, how could I do that to Stepan? He's done nothing wrong.
He just flirted with the wrong girl, and I didn't use boundaries to tell him I was off limits. Now this is my mess to clean up.
"Go," Elira says, pushing the test into my hands. "I'll be right here when you come out."
I grumble the entire way to the bathroom, test in hand, and shut the door behind me.
Shame makes every step heavier than it needs to be, and I feel acutely aware of how badly I've messed up.
If my best friend thinks it's that obvious, then I've been lying to myself.
Every drink I refused has been because I knew deep down what was happening, not all the other excuses I've given myself.
My hands fumble the package open and I slide my shorts and panties down, hovering over the toilet to pee on the little stick. I don’t even have the heart to wait for the results, so as soon as the deed is done, my pants are back up and I’m washing my hands.
Beating myself up won't stop this from happening, but it does make me feel better momentarily.
So as I carry the test out of the bathroom, I manage to berate myself for how stupid I've been a dozen times on the way before dropping onto the bed and putting the test in her hand.
I bury my face in the pillow and try not to cry.
"Oh, dear," she says quietly, and I don't even have to ask her what the results are. I thought these things took a while, but maybe the results happen faster when the woman taking the test should've known better. "Okay." She breathes out a long, slow breath and says, "How far along, do you think?"
My chest aches and tears burn my eyes as I grumble, "Oh, my God," into the pillow, but it's not really news to me.
The sickness, the fatigue, even the way my tits hurt every time Stepan touches them—all proof I ignored the past two weeks.
I prop myself up on my elbows and look up at my best friend who's waiting for an answer.
"Maybe eight weeks. That's when Stepan and I first… "
Her face is drawn, and she looks down at the test again. "What are you going to do? You have to tell your father and—"
"No, Elira. Promise me. Not a single person hears about this."
Her head shakes and she frowns at me. "The wedding's in four months. You'll be showing by then, Marina. Maybe even before then, depending on how your body carries. You can't hide this sort of thing. It's not really something that can stay a secret."
"Oh, my God," I whine, rolling over. I take the pillow and cover my face, dropping both arms over it until it presses on my nose and mouth, making it harder to breathe. I'm such an idiot. I can't believe how stupid I am.
"Girl," she grunts, tugging the pillow away from my face so I'm left staring up at the sheer curtains hanging from the cross bars of my four-poster bed. "Are you at least going to tell Mystery Man?"
I shoot upright as fast as lightning. "God, no!" I hiss, turning to face her. "Are you crazy?" God, he would hate me. I can't marry him and he's already told me he loves me. What am I supposed to do, flag a baby around in his face and tell him Maksim is gonna raise it? He'd be so angry.
"You think he'd do something reckless?"
"No," I say, softening my reaction. "But he doesn't know my father." I press a hand to my forehead and choke back a sob. "He's already told me he loves me and he asked me to marry him, Lira. I can't tell him I'm having his baby. I have to marry Maksim. You know how my father is."
Elira flops back on the bed as I grab a pillow and hug it to my chest. She looks thoughtful though concerned for me.
She really is a good friend even though she doesn't like to rock the boat. I know deep down, she cares and wants to help me, but this is a situation I’m not sure anyone could help with.
I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.
"Sleep with Maksim," she says abruptly before turning to lie on her side facing me.
"What? No!" I hiss, scowling at her. "Are you nuts?"
"This week, if you can manage it. Make it feel natural, make it convincing, and when the pregnancy becomes obvious, the timing lines up and it's his. It's perfect, Rina. He'll believe it and you'll be saved."
"Elira, I can't do that." I push off the bed, throwing the pillow on top of her as I stalk to my dresser and pick up a peppermint I bought last week at the pharmacy. Sucking on them helps the nausea go away and right now, with my emotions so high, I'm feeling even worse than I was before she came.
"I know you don't want to." She sits up cross-legged and plants her elbows on her knees. "But if Maksim finds out this baby isn't his, he won't just sit you down for a conversation about it. You know that... Think about this for a second. You're in a family of criminals."
The peppermint starts to melt, releasing its sweetness, and I swallow the juices from it as I slink back to bed and crawl in, pulling the covers over me completely. I don't even want to think about things like this, let alone live them. This doesn't seem fair at all.
"There has to be something else," I mumble, and she throws the covers back so she can see my face.
"Do you really think when Maksim finds out that he won't go right after Stepan and kill him?" She grimaces. "He's a sweet guy, Rina, but he's not like Maksim. He's just a normal man and Maksim is a cold-blooded killer."
I pull the covers back up to my chin and press my eyes closed.
It's too much all at once. I have to wrap my head around the fact that I’m pregnant first before I decide how or when to share it.
I'm not totally stupid. I know my body will change and hiding it will be impossible, and while Elira's suggestion poses a credible way out of it, the thought of sleeping with Maksim makes me feel even sicker.
"I want to be alone now," I tell her bluntly at the risk of offending her. But she doesn't seem offended by my comment, just sad.
"Are you going to be alright tonight?" she asks, standing up.
"I'll be fine. I think we're doing dinner with Maksim tonight." I might try to get out of that now, tell them I'm sick or something. I can't stand the idea of seeing him. The guilt will eat me alive.
She wraps her arms around me and plants her chin on top of my head, her arms tight around my shoulders. "I'm just a phone call away, okay?" she whispers before standing up.
I watch her walk to the door and out before I let the real waterworks begin.
I'm pregnant with Stepan's baby and if I were dating him, it would be a challenge but not devastating. As it is, this is going to change my life, but add to that the complication of this marriage arrangement and it may very well kill me.
Literally.
Maksim isn’t the sort of man who messes around, and if this throws off the alliance agreement, it may be something he kills over.
What have I done?