28. BELLA
28
BELLA
T he nausea hit me like a wave, and I barely made it to the bathroom before I lost the contents of my stomach.
Again.
I groaned, resting my forehead on the cool sink, willing the room to stop spinning. It had to be stress. Everything had been a whirlwind lately—the yacht show, Chris, trying to keep everything balanced. It was too much.
What was going on with me lately? I was usually so good with stress. Managing the entire crew of a fancy yacht during one of these shows was what I did—I could do it with my eyes closed.
Granted, I hadn’t exactly had my ex-boyfriend be the owner of the yacht I was working on before. Or start up a relationship with him again. Or see someone else behind his back to try to figure out how I could help him.
“What the fuck, Bella,” I whispered to myself.
I opened the faucet and splashed water on my face, taking a deep breath. This was just a bad spell. It wasn’t anything serious.
It wasn’t like I was pregnant or anything. We’d been using condoms, and…
Another wave of nausea rolled over me and I turned to the toilet just in case.
Mock charge.
I’d been having those as well—gags that made it feel like I was going to spill my guts on the floor right in front of me. But the nausea passed again for the most part, and what was left settled at the base of my throat, the way it had been if I wasn’t throwing up.
Great.
I never got sick like this. It really looked like I was pregnant, if I had to be honest. But that wasn’t possible, was it? I mean, it had only been a couple of weeks since my period…
I started counting the days.
No, that wasn’t right.
I counted. And counted again. I had to have had it recently, right? But not since I’d landed in Monaco, now that I thought about it.
Not since before Chris and I had gotten together that first time.
The time we’d started without protection…
No.
It didn’t make sense at first—I fought the possibility and I took out my phone, opening the calendar app. I tapped on the date I’d arrived in Monaco. It was more than a month ago already.
I should have been on at some point.
I’d been so busy, working hard, playing so hard, I hadn’t kept track of anything like that. I stared at my calendar, and slowly the reality started to settle in. My period was late. By more than a week.
And nausea rolled over me again. I pressed my fingers against my lips and breathed in through my nose before letting the breath out through my mouth. I dropped my hand and repeated the breathing exercise a couple of times until I felt like I had control again.
An illusion, because if whatever was in my stomach wanted out, then I couldn’t do much about it.
I closed my eyes and counted the days one more time.
A week late.
With shaking hands, I pulled out the pregnancy test I’d stashed in my bag—a “just in case” that I’d hoped I’d never have to use. It had been an inside joke between me and Gigi for a long time—we’d each decided to keep one along with an emergency tampon, for whichever came first.
But this shouldn’t have happened. It had been a joke , damn it!
I forced myself to take a deep breath as I followed the instructions, waiting for the lines to appear. The seconds stretched into eternity, and the entire time my brain kept chanting, It’s not possible. It’s just stress. Just stress.
The test beeped, and I glanced down.
Two pink lines.
I blinked, staring at it as if maybe I’d read it wrong. But the lines were still there, clear as day.
Positive.
“Oh my God,” I whispered and squeezed my eyes shut, leaning against the wall next to the toilet. More nausea. Was it shock this time?
My thoughts started spiraling—how could this have happened? How could I have let this happen? I should have known better. I should have handled it differently, controlled myself.
But I’d never been able to control myself with Chris. He’d always been my weakness.
And now, here I was, with two lines staring back at me.
I pushed up from the bathroom floor and walked to my small bed, squeezed in the corner of my cabin. I sank down onto the edge of it, my heart in my throat, feeling like this time, I was going to throw up all my guts along with the contents of my stomach, too.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Not when things were just starting to feel stable again.
My career was going somewhere worthwhile. I could make so much more money, reach new heights, travel the world… but not if I had a baby to look after.
And what about Chris? After everything we’d been through, we weren’t ready for this. We were finally in a good place—taking things slow, building trust. A baby would complicate everything.
I tried to steady my breathing, telling myself to stay calm. But panic took over.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Gigi’s number.
She answered on the second ring, her face popping up on my screen. When she saw me, her face shifted from cheerful to concerned. Maybe I looked as shit as I felt.
“Bells?” she said, her voice filled with worry. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I need you, G. It’s… it’s an emergency.”
Her face went serious, her brows knitting together. “Should I come back? What happened?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, you don’t need to come back. I just… I need to talk.”
She was sitting in some sunny spot with a view of the ocean behind her—probably Spain. I didn’t want to drag her all the way back here when I was the one who’d screwed up.
She looked at me with her no-nonsense gaze, her eyes scanning my face. “What happened?” she asked again.
“I’m pregnant,” I said, my voice hoarse. The words sounded foreign in my mouth.
Gigi blinked at me, her mouth opening and closing for a second. “Pregnant? You’re… Bells, how? I mean, I know how , but… when?”
I managed a weak laugh, wiping at my eyes when they started to spill tears.
Stupid tears—I’d told myself I wouldn’t cry.
“Over a month ago. It was that night with Chris. I thought it was just stress at first, but I don’t usually miss a period because of that. I mean, I can handle stress. I took that test we always joke about.”
Gigi blanched.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding, even though she hadn’t said anything.
Gigi’s face softened, her eyes full of sympathy. “Oh, Bella,” she said quietly.
I nodded, swallowing hard so I wouldn’t just start sobbing. “I don’t know what to do, G. Things with Chris are just starting to get good again. We’re taking it slow, trying not to mess it up this time. And now… this.”
Gigi leaned closer to the camera, her eyes locking onto mine. “Bella, take a deep breath. You need to tell Chris. He deserves to know. And he should be there for you. This is his baby, too.”
My heart constricted at her words. Pregnant. Baby. It all felt so unreal.
Terrifying.
“But what if it’s too much for him?” I asked. “What if this is what makes him realize I’m not worth all this trouble? He left once before, saying we were moving too fast. I mean, if all those years together back then was too fast, then this…” I let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I can’t lose him again, Gigi.”
Gigi nodded. “I know. I get where you’re coming from. But this isn’t about protecting his feelings anymore, Bells. You didn’t make this baby alone. It took two of you. Chris needs to step up, be the man you need him to be in this. It’s not like you planned this or anything. You shouldn’t have to carry this alone. If he’s serious about being with you, he’ll do the right thing and be there.”
I sniffled, shaking my head. I wasn’t so sure about that. He’d scared so easily, and even though we were trying to take things slow, things had still moved faster than he was completely okay with.
This was a whole new level.
“But what if he isn’t?” I asked again. “I feel like telling him will just be setting myself up for heartbreak.”
Gigi frowned. “So… you’re just going to not tell him? He’s bound to notice at some point, Bella.”
She wasn’t wrong. There was no way I could hide it. Not unless I left him, and the thought of doing that was just as horrifying as telling him what was going on.
“I’m terrified he’ll hate me for it,” I whispered, allowing the truth to come out.
Gigi’s expression softened, her voice turning gentle. “Then screw him, babe. But I honestly don’t think that’s what’s going to happen. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s grown a lot since the last time, and if he really wants you in his life, he needs to face this with you. You can’t protect him from this. And you can’t push him away so that he won’t hurt you. You’ve got to let him in.”
I closed my eyes, letting her words sink in. She was right. I couldn’t make this decision alone, and I couldn’t let my fear of losing Chris control everything. Even though I was pretty sure I was going to lose him if I told him. Still, he needed to know, and we needed to figure it out.
“Okay,” I whispered, nodding. “You’re right. I need to tell him.”
Gigi smiled at me. “That’s my girl. And listen to me, no matter what happens, I’m here for you. We’re in this together, alright?”
I smiled back although I still felt like crying. The idea of talking to Chris was terrifying and I was overwhelmed. Being so much more emotional—thanks to my hormones, I knew now—didn’t help. “Alright. Thanks, G. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably implode from all that overthinking,” she said with a wink, and I let out a shaky laugh, feeling a little bit of the tension ease from my chest.
After ending the call, I sat in my cabin, staring at the pregnancy test still lying on my bed.
Gigi’s words echoed in my mind—Chris deserved to know, and I shouldn’t have to do this alone. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
If we were going to make it work, we needed honesty—about everything, no matter how terrifying it was. Wasn’t that what we were trying to do now, anyway? We were trying to be open with each other. He’d already opened up to me so much that maybe talking to him would be easier.
The small voice in the back of my mind seriously doubted it and didn’t hesitate to tell me so.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found Chris’s name. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen before finally pressing “send” on the message. I needed to do this properly—no casual blurting, no rushed confessions. I needed him to understand how serious this was.
Instead of just finding him wherever he was, hoping that he had a moment to talk, enough to really hash it out, I booked a time with him, making it sound as formal as possible. I needed him to know that I wasn’t taking this lightly, that this was something we needed to face together, uninterrupted.
I had no idea how Chris would react—whether he’d be angry, scared, or just as lost as I felt. Would he want to do this with me? Or would he tell me he never wanted to see me again? He kept telling me he didn’t want to face the future without me, but that wasn’t with the idea of a baby in mind. That wasn’t knowing that everything would change.
Maybe, once he knew, he would change his mind on the spot.
Stop overthinking , I told myself. I was prone to making everything so bad in my mind that I screwed it up in my own head long before anything happened.
I just had to take a deep breath, face the facts, and wait until I could talk to Chris about exactly what was going on.
And hope to God that it didn’t ruin the fairy tale we’d just started putting together.