Chapter 30 #2
Victoria tapped her fingers on her desk, gazing fondly at the only person who’d been a real friend to her since she’d pulled up stakes and started working in New York.
The decision to not flee again having been made, it was time to come clean.
She’d done it with Kyle. It was time to do it with Tracee. “I have a confession to make.”
“I love confessions. Confess away.”
“My real name isn’t Victoria Kelly. It’s Viktoria—spelled with a K—Vladimirovna Petrova.”
Tracee’s mouth fell open. “Huh?”
“There’s more.” She inhaled deeply, determined to be as honest and truthful as possible with the people who were most important in her life. “Kyle and I met ten years ago. In Chicago. When I was married.”
Tracee’s eyes bulged like she’d been goosed. “Married?”
“Married. The rest of what I’m about to say can’t leave this room.” At least for now. Until Yuri was caught, convicted, and put behind bars.
She pressed on and didn’t stop until she’d outlined her personal life up to and including the events of today, leaving out only the details of how difficult her emotional recovery had been. She still wasn’t prepared to discuss that with anyone, not even Tracee.
Her friend’s eyebrows were now permanently stuck an inch higher than they were before. “Oh my God. Your ex was a monster.”
And probably still is.
“That explains all the hot FBI agents lurking around every corner.” Tracee snorted. “Are you really still in danger?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Yuri had left his calling card. He knew where she lived. If he’d wanted to hurt her, wouldn’t he have done it by now? “Kyle is…helping me.”
“And what about Kyle?” Tracee leaned forward. “You guys have a complex relationship, to say the least. Where does he fit into your life now? Your personal life.”
“Good question.” From the way things were going, the answer was nowhere.
He might be working behind the scenes to keep her out of prison, but that didn’t mean things would go back to the way they were.
“I hurt him. More importantly, I disappointed him. I basically lied to him about something I should have told him weeks ago.”
“What didn’t you tell him?”
That I stole five million dollars in ransom money.
As per AUSA Washington, that part of the conversation was still off-limits outside the confines of the U.S. Attorney’s Office. “I can’t tell you. Suffice to say, it’s something critically important to Kyle and the FBI.”
Tracee sat back and strummed her fingers on the armrest. “I don’t know him well, but I saw the way he looked at you. Maybe all he needs is a little time.”
“That’s what Deke said.” She sighed, wishing it were that simple and knowing it wasn’t, not even close. “I think it might be time for me to give up my dream of having a knight rescue me and carry me away on a white steed.” There’d been a time she’d once thought Alex Tarankov would be that knight.
“I wouldn’t give up on your dream just yet,” Tracee said. “Maybe there’s still hope.”
“Maybe,” she replied, yawning but doubting it. The last couple of days, she’d been tiring easily.
“You look tired. That’s what you get from drinking that awful herbal tea instead of coffee.” Tracee stood. “I just made a fresh pot of French roast. I’ll get you some.”
The thought of coffee made her stomach roll violently.
She sucked in quick breaths, realizing she’d never make it to the ladies’ room in time.
Leaning over, she threw up the tea she’d drunk and the few bits of croissant she’d eaten into the wastebasket beside her desk.
Gulping in more air, she dry-heaved until she had nothing left to give.
Everything that had been in her stomach was now at the bottom of the waste basket.
“Honey?” Tracee was beside her, holding back her hair. “Are you okay?”
Slowly, she nodded and grabbed a tissue from the desk to wipe her mouth. “I don’t know where that came from.”
Tracee pressed her hand to Victoria’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Sit back and let me get you a cold—”
Victoria leaned over the basket again as another round of dry heaves took hold.
Tracee sat on a corner of the desk. “Uh, when did you get your last period?”
“I don’t know.” The last month had been filled with so much stress and anxiety she hadn’t given it much thought.
Her menstrual cycle had always been such an inconsequential aspect of her life, since its recurring presence had no implications on her ability to get pregnant.
However, her period was, in fact, overdue. “Over a month ago. Why?”
“Uh-huh.” Tracee began counting off with her fingers. “Nausea. Fatigue. Are your breasts tender? Do you go to the bathroom more frequently?”
She managed a quick laugh. “I’m not pregnant. This must be a bug I picked up.”
“Yeah, I think you picked up a bug, all right.” She pursed her lips into a sarcastic smile. “I think this might be your own little bug. Are you aware of the fact the symptoms you’re experiencing are classic signs of pregnancy? I went through it early on when I was pregnant with Ruby.”
“It can’t be.” As much as she wished otherwise. Her stomach clenched again, this time from the overwhelming sadness she thought was behind her. “You’re wrong about this. I can’t have children.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Years ago, I tried conceiving but never could. I went to a doctor, got tested, and found out I was sterile.”
“Were you and Kyle…intimate?” Victoria nodded. “How many times and how long ago?”
“Only twice.” She mentally calculated backwards on the calendar. “About two weeks ago. Not that there’s a chance I’m pregnant, but wouldn’t it be too soon to experience symptoms?”
“No.” Tracee shook her head adamantly. “These signs can show up as early as two weeks after conception. Trust me, I looked it up. Plus, you missed your period. That’s a biggie.”
“It can’t be true,” she whispered. “The doctor said so.” But the more she thought about it, the more a niggling suspicion took root.
Deep down, her body was telling her something that couldn’t possibly be true.
The memory of Yuri’s cruel words slammed into her as he’d viciously related the doctor’s diagnosis.
“Could the doctor have been wrong?” If so, she should be angry at the misdiagnosis.
Instead, hesitant elation bloomed inside her.
“Maybe,” Tracee said. “It does happen. What exactly did the doctor say was the problem?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Because Yuri had taken the call. She’d never actually spoken with the doctor. She sucked in a breath. “Oh my God.” Was it possible Yuri had lied to her?
Stupid question.
Looking back, when had he not lied?
In her few-and-far-between sexual encounters with other men since fleeing Chicago, they’d always used protection. Kyle was the only man she’d been comfortable enough with to make love without any form of contraception.
I might be pregnant with Kyle’s baby.
The ramifications were both exhilarating. And frightening.
Kyle had been devastated by the death of his wife and unborn daughter. Would he really want her child? After everything she’d done, could he possibly still want her?
She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loved him with her whole heart, but there’d been no proclamations of love or commitment on his part. Likely, there never would be.
“You need to run across the street to the drugstore and buy a home pregnancy test. If it’s positive, you need to make an appointment with a doctor and have it confirmed.” Tracee smiled. “Tonight, I’m going to make you some of my mother’s famous morning sickness ginger chicken noodle soup.”
“First, I have to make a phone call.” Eagerness aside, confirming her suspicion with Doctor Forster took priority. He might not be in practice anymore, but she had to at least try and find out what her diagnosis had been. She flipped open the laptop and began searching for his office number.
“Victoria?” Tracee’s brow furrowed. “Is this a good thing?”
“Yes.” Her smile broadened. “But you have to promise me you won’t ever tell Kyle. If he comes here, it would be better if you didn’t even talk to him.” When Tracee didn’t respond but kept watching her with a growing frown on her face, Victoria repeated, “Promise me.”
Tracee sighed, as if she didn’t agree with her decision. “Okay, I promise, but you should think hard about this. You might change your mind.”
“Thank you.” While her decision to keep Kyle in the dark weighed heavily on her, she wouldn’t change her mind. If she really was pregnant with his child, having him in her life solely for the sake of the baby would be unbearable.
The rest of the day had dragged by at a snail’s pace. By the time Victoria’s last patient had left, her nerves were coiled and ready to spring in every direction.
She paced in the confines of her small apartment bathroom, waiting for the timer on her cell phone to announce the end of the prescribed three minutes it took for the pregnancy test to develop.
Two lines if she was, one if she wasn’t.
To keep from staring at the test wand for the full three minutes, she’d stuck it in a corner on the vanity.
It was like waiting for water to boil, and it was killing her.
Unable to take the silence, she turned on the small radio she used to check the weather in the morning, turning up the volume and tuning it to a music station to keep her mind occupied.
Not working. She couldn’t stop from replaying over and over again in her mind what Doctor Forster’s staff had told her.
Doctor Forster was still in practice in Chicago.
After she’d emailed them back the medical information release form, they’d been incredibly accommodating and quickly sent over her old test results.
“All reproductive markers within normal range” was the final sentence in the summary section.
She’d read those words ten times before the full impact could sink in.
Victoria sat on the edge of the tub, gritting her teeth. Never before had she felt such anger at a human being.
Yuri had lied to her.
It would be totally in keeping with his cruel, narcissistic personality to hurt her like that and, at the same time, avoid having to acknowledge his own paternal inadequacy.
“Bastard.”
Other, more colorful words nearly flew from her mouth, but since Yuri wasn’t here, she kept them to herself.
She glanced at her phone propped against the radio. Still a minute to go. Another sixty seconds waiting to find out if her life was about to change in the most unexpected and joyous way possible.
If she wasn’t pregnant, then nothing had been lost, since she’d never believed she could conceive anyway. But if she was pregnant, then maybe it was divine intervention giving her a second chance.
Being pregnant would mean her life was no longer just about her. There’d be her baby to think about. What would happen if she went to prison? Putting herself in a position where she might be separated from her baby—
Not gonna happen.
Should she run?
Conviction in absentia was possible. If that happened, she’d never be able to stop running, and that went against everything she’d been striving so hard to achieve.
Like her hard-earned self-respect. If that’s what it took to keep her baby safe, she’d do it.
Ironically, she’d be running more from Kyle than from Yuri.
Never again would she let Yuri dictate her life or frighten her into emotional submission.
Kyle, however, could put her in jail. Whatever she decided, her doctorate was officially on the back burner. Her baby came first.
The cell phone dinged shrilly. Reaching over with a seriously unsteady hand, she stopped the timer.
For a long moment, she couldn’t move, too afraid to get her hopes up.
Finally, she stood and picked up the test wand, staring at the results and allowing it to sink in.
Regardless of what she’d learned today, the ramifications were unbelievable. Two pink lines stared back at her.
I’m pregnant!
At least, this preliminary test said she was. The box stated it was 99% accurate. Still in disbelief, she sat back down on the edge of the tub. Laughter bubbled up from her throat. She really was going to have a baby.
Kyle’s baby.
What should have been a moment of celebration wasn’t, not entirely. Even if by some miracle she didn’t go to prison, remaining here was no longer possible. Loving Kyle as desperately as she did and never having that love returned would destroy her.
With a surprisingly steady hand, she set the test wand back on the vanity.
Kyle had essentially abandoned her. Again.
This morning when she’d woken up, she’d felt utterly alone. She placed a hand on her abdomen. Now she never would be. She could do this. Things were different now. She was different—stronger, capable of standing up for herself and her baby.
She tugged a washcloth from the rack and turned on the bath water to wet the cloth.
After wiping her face, she wrung out the cloth and watched the water spiral down the drain.
There’d been another day when she’d sat on the shower floor in her Chicago home, thinking how the whirlpool of water disappearing down the drain was symbolic of her drowned hopes for the future.
Now there was a future. Not the one she’d expected but one that would bring her the joys of motherhood she’d so badly wanted to experience.
Single parenthood would be difficult, but she’d be the best mother a child could ever have. No matter how badly her relationship with Kyle had ended, this baby was conceived in love, and she vowed silently to raise it with a never-ending supply.
I will love you always, and I will never abandon you.
There was only one way to ensure she could keep that promise.
With a mixture of conviction and dread, she draped the washcloth over the edge of the tub, then went into the hallway and grabbed her mother’s photo.
In her bedroom, she tugged the small suitcase from the closet and took her time filling it with only the bare essentials and leaving just enough room for toiletries. After adding her mother’s photo to the suitcase, she headed back into the bathroom.
Rather than packing up her toiletries, she sat on the edge of the tub, second-guessing her decision. For what she was about to do, Kyle would hate her, probably more than he did already. But it had to be done.
She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose.
A wisp of smoke filtered into the bathroom. She hadn’t started dinner yet, so nothing could be burning.
She stared at the smoke. It wasn’t the smell of burned food. This was cigar smoke, and she recognized the distinctive odor. Cuban cigars.
The kind Yuri smoked.
She gasped, clutching at her throat and nearly collapsing backward into the tub.
“Hello, Vika. Miss me?”