39. Genevieve
Chapter thirty-nine
Genevieve
Afew more weeks, maybe months had gone by.
Eventually I’d stopped counting. Stopped counting the hospital visits, stopped counting the number of times I avoided Cheryl, the number of times I caught Gregory…
and Raymond downing whole bottles of whiskey and scotch and…
I’d stopped counting the number of phone calls I’d made to the correctional center holding Reid.
Alexander could only bend the rules so many times for in-person visits. But phone calls, those I could have. Every day, if I needed it. And when I was alone, I needed it. Hearing Reid’s voice was the only thing keeping me tethered to myself.
Even when he was angry I was pushing to speak to him after he shut me out, even when he started every call with, “You shouldn’t be calling me this often,” he never hung up.
He wouldn’t let the line go dead until he had wrung every last update out of me—
What I ate. Whether I slept. How Eugene was adjusting. How the baby was doing.
He talked like the baby wasn’t his… but he acted like it was. And I answered like we both didn’t know the truth.
He made me feel whole, feel seen, it was all I could ask for in an uncertain time like this. They were the only moments that made the rest of my days feel survivable.
And somewhere between one call and the next, the time came when I had to tell Gregory and Raymond I was pregnant.
Gregory grinned before I even finished the sentence.
“Gen—Gen, that’s incredible.”
His smile was stretched ear to ear, too bright, too instant. “We needed good news. God, we really needed this.”
He touched my stomach before asking if he could, his palm warm, lingering, a little possessive even. Like he thought he had earned the right.
Raymond stared at the same spot his son had rubbed with indifference. His silence lasted long enough to make the air in the room feel uncomfortable, at least for me. “It’s early,” he finally said. “But congratulations.”
He didn’t smile or look happy. He probably thought this was just another press disaster waiting to happen. I couldn’t blame him on that part.
Standing in the kitchen now, I stirred Eugene’s oatmeal, wiping the tiredness from my eyes as I did. I didn’t even hear Gregory come in or notice him until he was standing beside me, dressed in a suit, ready to go God knows where.
It surely wasn’t to Newman Trust. We’d practically buried that in the past despite it only going down a few months ago.
From what I had heard, he was meeting with more investors, trying to find more opportunities, and like Alexander said before, doing something that was keeping the money revolving—money we shouldn’t have.
But I said nothing. Instead I offered him a smile.
“Morning,” I said gently, and he came up behind me, my heart unintentionally beating more erratically as his hands rested on my stomach from behind.
“Morning, Gen.” He placed a kiss on my hair, his lips lingering longer than they should.
Part of me didn’t want the attention or affection he only began to show after I told him I was pregnant, the same affection and attention he’d give to Cheryl, who was now roaming under the same roof as me daily.
“Feeling okay this morning?” he asked, and I nodded, focusing on the oatmeal that couldn’t be stirred any more than I already had done, but I kept going.
“Never better…” I grinned. His thumb rubbed over my bump, my heart racing in my chest as he sighed. His hand rested there like it belonged there, not in love or happiness, but something that resembled… ownership. I couldn’t help the panic that rose in my chest because of it.
“You should’ve told me sooner,” he muttered.
My skin crawled as I gulped softly. “I just… I wasn’t sure yet.
I didn’t know if you’d be happy…” I lied, the words scraping out of me as I trailed off.
And he didn’t say anything. But I already knew what was on his mind, could see the gears turning behind his eyes every time he looked at my stomach, every time I heard through the walls his conversations with his father.
This could be scandal control, public sympathy, a pregnant fiancée in the middle of a federal investigation. A distraction. A new narrative. But Raymond was against it, for now anyway. I didn’t know if that was to help me or hurt me.
“Genevieve,” he said, smiling now, his tone feeling warm and… wrong, “this baby is good news. This will help us.”
Us… meaning him. He saw opportunity. He couldn’t fathom the risks.
But Raymond saw it and Jamie had warned me. My pregnancy wasn’t a blessing in this house, it was a liability, a threat, a PR disaster waiting to explode, a reminder of history repeating itself in the worst way.
“Of course this will be good for all of us,” her voice carried through the kitchen, and as quick as Greg’s hands were on me they were gone. The relief in my body was embarrassing. My tense shoulders loosened. The breath I’d been holding finally escaped, but thankfully he didn’t notice.
Cheryl finally entered, her smile perfect, body pristine in comparison to the softness that was starting to show on mine. She walked in polished, shining in all the places I felt dull.
“Besides,” she said lightly, reaching into a cabinet, “you’ve been all smiles lately.
” I blinked as she continued, “Less moody, more alive.” She laughed at her own phrasing, not even glancing at me long enough to notice my expression.
“I swear, the pregnancy glow is early this time. Some women are just lucky.”
I forced a small smile. I didn’t exactly feel different; if anything my morning sickness and sensitivity was only getting worse…
I had, however, started communicating regularly with Reid.
Seeing him more, hearing his voice—maybe she was right.
But by her tone, I was sure she wasn’t exactly a “fan” of my newfound pregnancy glow.
Finishing up Eugene’s breakfast as I dropped a few berries into the bowl of oats, I listened to the pitter-patter of feet coming into the kitchen before I locked eyes on my little boy.
His fists were rubbing against his eyes, walking blindly before he locked onto my legs, his arms wrapping around my knees. My first genuine smile of the morning came to my lips.
“Hi, Lovebug. Did you sleep good last night?” I asked, and he nodded silently, hands clenching at my robe tiredly.
Greg, deciding now was the perfect time to ruin our little moment, stepped in, ruffling Eugene’s hair. I bit my tongue, noticing the stoic reaction from my son in contrast to when Reid would do the same to him.
“There’s my boy. Big day today for you in soccer, huh? I’ll make sure Mom tells me all about your winning goals again.” He smiled, but Eugene blinked up at him, unimpressed, and turned back to my leg.
I winced internally at the reaction as I reached down and picked Eugene up, settling him onto the counter in front of me. He had another one of his tournaments today, playing against a rival team an hour away.
I’d told Greg the other day, wanting him to be a part of at least one game during the stretch of the end of the season, but absentee father he was, he didn’t bother making plans to come.
He also wouldn’t have cared to listen to how it went if he came back.
Which was why even after Eugene deliberately ignored him, Gregory straightened, smoothing his jacket, already moving on from the conversation.
“We’ll be back from the meetings soon,” he said, placing a quick kiss on my cheek before stepping out with Cheryl, his hand finding the small of her back as they rounded the corner.
I watched them go silently before turning back to my sleepy boy, who was trying to lean his head onto my shoulder. I rubbed his cheek with my thumb, kissing his skin gently as his eyes opened.
“It’ll just be us this morning, Lovebug. I want you to eat your breakfast before we get ready, okay?”
He blinked slowly, sitting up. “‘Kay,” came his little raspy voice, and I placed a kiss on his nose.
I fed him slowly. His little legs swung against the counter as he chewed, eyes still heavy with sleep, cheeks round and warm.
My hand drifted to my stomach without thinking. This was my world, these two were my everything now. And there was no place I’d rather be than here…
But somewhere underneath all of it… there was a pull I couldn’t silence that I wanted to ignore, already counting the hours until I could hear his voice again.