22. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Esmerelda
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Trina asks for the twelfth time with a furrowed brow as I walk back into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. I instantly turn my nose up at the different smells surrounding the kitchen, the main one, cheese, and the urge to vomit hits hard.
Oh crap. I swallow the bile that wants to come up and give her a tight smile.
I've felt terrible all morning and needed Trina's help. She’s taking over the baking while I stay out front, something I hate doing because baking is my passion and my calmness but this baby hates me because twice, I’ve vomited, reminding me that I am still indeed pregnant and I really don’t want to be sick again.
After Pitbull’s words the other night at dinner, I’ve taken them to heart, and yeah, I do believe my problem is how my mother passed giving birth to Aiden.
I’m scared but a termination because of fear is not the way to go. This baby is real. It most likely has a heartbeat, and I need to think things through. So many people would give anything to have a child. I know I’d love it more than anything a few years down the line but the time is here and it’s now, happening but I just don’t know if I can overcome my fear.
Is pre-eclampsia hereditary?
Well, that was a stupid thought.
I sigh as I put the dishes down near the sink and reply to Trina with a muttered lie, “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well.”
She nods with a furrowed brow but doesn’t say anything more and turns, opening the oven to take the pastry out. Without a second thought, I quickly turn back and walk out of the kitchen, breathing deeply before the scents hit me because I can’t vomit in front of her, especially when she has a bit of a big mouth. Trina can’t keep a secret to save her life and loves to gossip.
A hint of pastry smell hits my senses and my mouth waters but in a bad way and I huff. It’s safe to say the smell of pastry and cheese together is my weakness right now – damn.
I walk back behind the counter trying to squash my disappointment and look over the tables to see several still occupied, and smile, pride hitting me.
“I hope Mom is proud of me,” I whisper as I quickly rearrange underneath the counter, moving the empty trays out of the way before Trina brings some fresh bakes out and Damian begins to occupy my thoughts.
Dinner went well. My dad and Pitbull hit it off well, and even Damian began to relax. Instead of looking at his dad like he ruined his life, he treated him like a father—well, until Pitbull asked if he’d go to the clubhouse for a meeting again with the brotherhood.
Damian turned him down but somehow, Pitbull and my father managed to sway him which is where he is right now.
If he doesn’t want his cut back, then fine, but he at least needs closure, and that is something he hadn’t gotten, something my dad reminded him of. Besides, they are still his family, and family means everything. I lost my mother and every day, I would give anything to have her back, to have her advice about this baby. I’d hate for my boyfriend to regret not giving his family a chance to make things right, even if it means he doesn’t become a brother, again, something my father drilled into him to get him to agree to a meeting.
They can still be in his life even without the cut.
The bell above the door chimes and I put on my smile despite the bile filling me, all the smells combining that used to make me feel warmth making me want to puke.
My eyes lock with blue ones, and a little hesitation fills me at the hate shining my way and I struggle to keep my smile on my face.
Damn, if looks could kill, I’d be ten feet under.
The woman, whose dark brown hair is immaculate, struts over to me, her eyes taking me in but halting on the black T-shirt that, yes, is Damian’s that he wore yesterday.
I love wearing his clothes, there is nothing more comfortable than his shirts, but he has to have worn them the day before.
Weird? Maybe. Do I care? Not really.
Burning fire ignites in the woman’s eyes as her body language tightens while she takes in my attire and I raise a brow.
Okay, this woman hates me.
Her heels stop clicking on the tiled floor in front of the counter, and slowly, she looks at me from my jeans and up while I try to ignore the fact that her top is see-through, showing her black bra and the fact her skirt can be classified as a belt.
Jesus, do women dress like this during the day now? I mean she can’t be any older than me and she looks like a hooker.
“What can I get you?” I ask as politely as I can despite the fury she’s igniting right now.
I’d recognize her type from anywhere. She has spoiled, mean girl written all over her, and honestly, I don’t have the energy to put up with whatever she wants to bring into my bakery, and I won’t hesitate to kick her out if she starts anything.
Hopefully, she’s just here for a coffee then leaves.
One can hope, right?
The woman curls her lips, making her look a little less pretty, and sneers, “I want nothing from this dump,” and I snort, I can’t help it.
Okay, so she isn’t here for a coffee. She has a problem with me, even though I have never met this woman before in my life.
Straightening my shoulders, I snap back, “Then turn on your too-high heels and get your plastic ass out of my bakery.”
Okay, my hormones don’t seem to understand that my mind wants peace…
Awesome.
Her nostrils flare, and she growls, “There is nothing plastic about me bitch, but do you know what you are?” she leans forward, “You are a home wrecker!”
Yep, definitely here for me and not a coffee.
I snort, cross my arms, and ask, “How exactly am I a home wrecker?”
She stands straight, and confidence fills her as she states, “You are wearing my man’s shirt.”
Her man’s….
I tilt my head, and laughter builds up, and of course I can’t stop it from releasing causing her to scowl.
Ah, so this is Ace, I mean Bullet’s sister. I got the first impression of her right when she walked into my bakery—spoiled mean girl who can’t even get a man without blackmail.
“Last I checked, he was forced to be your boyfriend by your father because that is how pathetic you are, not able to find a boyfriend yourself. Now do yourself a favor before you not only embarrass yourself some more but also your family and turn around and leave. Otherwise, I will not be held accountable for my actions,” I say without a care in the world, my light dimming a little, everything coming to a head after the last few weeks.
Instead of leaving she smirks and lies through her teeth, “Two months ago Damian and I fucked on his tattoo chair,” she rubs her hand on her stomach, confidence oozing from her as she declares, “I’m pregnant with his child and if you don’t end things with him so my family can be together again,” she leans forward while gently pulling her bra to the side a little showing a small knife, she threatens, “I’ll slit your throat…”
She pushes off the counter and grins, “You have two days to end things with him.”
That said, she wiggles her fingers at me and turns, walking out the door, slamming it, making the glass rattle and the customers jump.
I know she’s lying, I know Damian isn’t a cheater and wouldn’t touch her if she was the last woman on this earth but I just…
I shake my head, defeat filling me, while the urge to grab the tray before me and run after her to smack her with it is high.
I still feel sick, I’m tired, and I know it’s the pregnancy, early mornings, and Aiden. I’m so exhausted and now having a pathetic girl threaten me…
I huff, looking down and I whisper, “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Hey, buttercup, what’s with the frown?” a familiar voice asks and I look up and smile, seeing Cody walk in and a sense of normality hits me seeing my best friend. My emotions takes over and my tears fall, making his smile disappear and demand, “Ess, what happened?”
I wipe away the tears that have fallen and say nonchalantly, “Oh, you know, the girl my boyfriend was forced to date in high school just threatened to slit my throat if I don’t end things with him,” his eyes widen and I finish, “Oh and that she’s apparently two months pregnant with his child.”
Cody scowls and snaps, “You know that isn’t true, right? That man loves you, Ess. He’s giving you something I wish I had, don’t believe that bitch. She’s just jealous and wants what was never hers to begin with. Please don’t fucking ruin what you have, don’t be like Haley, please, you are better than that.”
I give him a sad smile and admit, “I know she’s lying, Cody, I-I, I’m just tired,” I wipe away more tears that have fallen and shock him, “I’m pregnant, Cody.”
His mouth parts in shock, and I whisper, “I’m scared because of how mom died, and I just, I don’t know if I want a baby right now and her coming in and finals and the bakery, it’s just too much.”
Seeing I’m at my breaking point, something I have never reached, even after losing mom, he nods and asks, “What do you need?” without hesitation.
I sniffle and admit, “I need you to call Damian for me because if I hear his voice, I’ll melt and allow him to take charge.”
“You want time away?” he confirms, and I nod as more tears fall.
“Not away from him,” I clarify, “he’s made it perfectly clear that whatever I choose, he’ll stand by me all the way. I just need time away to think and breathe, maybe take Aiden to the beach house for a few days, just him and me. I’m nearly eight weeks along, so I don’t have long to figure out my plan,” I swallow the lump forming in my throat, “I need to figure out if I’m ready to be a mother and if I can get through my fear and I need to not be around that woman. She gave me two days to end things, and honestly, I think Damian and the club can deal with her while I figure things out for my future and Damian’s.”
Cody sighs, “He won’t like you leaving for a few days, Ess.”
I nod and admit, “But he’ll understand. Bethany pushed me over the edge with everything else going through my mind, including my father trying to push the bakery on me.”
Cody smiles and reminds me, “Because he knows you are ready.”
I smile sadly and finally admit, “He may know I’m ready, but, in my heart, I don’t think I am because even though it’s been nearly four years since she passed, it’ll make things more final.”
His body deflates at my words, something I’ve never admitted, even to my dad and he mutters, “Ah fuck,” and rounds the counter before taking me in his arms and whispers, “Everything will be okay,” holding me tightly and I let my first sob release, hoping he’s right.
Mom.
The bakery.
Damian.
The baby.
Bethany…
I need a break and hopefully come up with the best decisions while the club deals with their princess because next time she comes in here and threatens me, I’m smashing a tray across her face.