Chapter 33
Sadie
Ifought back tears as I walked through the lobby and back to the elevator where I had just found out that the office knew about Jeremiah and me.
Even though I had just told him to deal with it, I couldn’t step through the sliding gold doors, knowing they were about to take me to a roomful of whispers and judgmental stares.
Instead, I plopped down on a nearby sofa and tried to collect myself.
I glanced out the glass doors to see the town car gone, Jeremiah along with it.
I shook my head frustratedly. I was the one who said I needed space, so why was I so upset that he gave it to me?
The absence of him was palpable as the chill of the lobby bit into my skin.
I shivered slightly, running my hands up my arms prickled with goosebumps.
I couldn’t understand how we had gone from the closeness we had shared this morning over French toast to this distance that now felt like a chasm between us. Everything had been so good. Perfect even.
Though I had been hesitant to move in with Jeremiah when he proposed the idea, I had grown to love being in the same space as him.
Yes, it was hard keeping us a secret from the office, or the world, really.
But there was also something exciting about it.
Sexy even. Maybe it was just my hormones, or the combination of having to keep myself in check when we were in the office, but it drove me mad.
I was already crazy about him, but now, I was borderline addicted.
Whenever we reunited after a long day at the office, it was clothes off, hands in hair, lips on skin the second one of us walked through the door.
He was right. I was insatiable. Especially after spending hours watching the way he moved so confidently in his suit, his muscles shifting underneath as he walked through the office.
Or when I caught his blue eyes on me, darkened with desire.
A perfect storm that I wanted to get lost in right then and there.
Or when his hand discreetly brushed the hem of my skirt.
It was a wonder we had kept our cool when the temperature rose off the charts when we were in a room together.
And it wasn’t just the sex. I had started to really get to know Jeremiah.
The soft side I had seen of him in Dallas was just the beginning of the layers beginning to be peeled back.
I learned he had different laughs. A genuine, loud laugh I sometimes got out of him, and the outrageousness of a reality dating show.
A sarcastic laugh that fell on my ears like a smirk.
A low chuckle that sent a trill up my spine. All which were music to my ears.
I realized he did own more than just suits, and liked to wear sweats around the apartment.
A gray pair quickly grew to be my favorite, especially when he roamed around shirtless.
They sat perfectly on his hips, revealing the deep V that led to more orgasms than I had experienced in my lifetime.
Besides looking sexy as hell, the sweats and t-shirts he wore made him more relaxed. More real.
And he had been taking care of me. Ever since that day when he showed up at my apartment armed with an apology and I had convinced myself I wouldn’t accept after our fight, he had found his way back into my life, and had been taking care of me ever since.
He made me breakfast every morning, with the help of his personal chef, who he had instructed to make hearty, nutrient-filled dishes for me for lunch and dinner.
He drew me baths with candles lining the edge of the tub and calming essential oils, which I often invited him to join me in.
He’d been reading my baby book, learning all there was to know about pregnancy and beyond. For someone who was downright terrified to be a father, he was doing one hell of a job at it, and the baby wasn’t even here yet.
But now, Jeremiah had to go and blow it all up.
Why did he have to get like this?
I knew the rumors around the office weren’t ideal, especially when we had both agreed to keep this a secret.
I knew how much was on the line for him.
The press played dirty. They could worship a person and cancel them the next, creating detrimental damage to their lives.
Their businesses. But our secret would have to come out, eventually.
Wouldn’t it? Or was Jeremiah so ashamed that me and the baby would always be a secret?
I suddenly felt like I wasn’t good enough for him.
Hadn’t he made that clear since I first started the job?
But I had made strides since then, finding my footing and standing up for myself, not only with him, but with others in the office.
Maybe it was because of the baby that I had found this newfound strength.
I wanted him or her to be proud of me as their mom, even if it sometimes meant going head-to-head with their father.
In those moments of our silly spats over meetings or appointments, no matter how frustrated Jeremiah was, there was always a hint of pride. Maybe I had just imagined it.
A single tear fell at the thought before I quickly wiped it away.
I looked around the lobby in fear anyone was already making a speculation as to why I was down here alone crying.
I stood up quickly and headed back out the lobby doors to hail a cab.
I just needed some time away from the office and all the mess it held inside.
I was supposed to be at an early lunch anyway, so I might as well decompress by myself before going to the ultrasound appointment.
I had the cab driver drop me off at the same café Jeremiah and I had eaten at after our first doctor’s appointment.
After ordering, I found a corner booth, and glanced over at the same table we had eaten at.
It was occupied by a couple clearly smitten with each other.
I would guess they were on date number three.
My heart yearned to have what they had, but I only wanted it with Jeremiah.
I ate my broccoli cheese soup and vegetable panini in the quiet of my own thoughts, the conversations of other patrons drowning out into a dull hum.
I couldn’t believe we had been here just six weeks ago, after we had learned that I was indeed pregnant.
And at that time, the baby had been the size of a pea.
According to my baby book and Jeremiah’s app that he checked in with weekly, the baby was the size of a plum now.
It was hard to imagine. I placed my hand over my stomach and held it there in a loving disbelief.
An hour later, I was back in the doctor’s office seating area, waiting to be called back and hyper-focused on the fact that Jeremiah wasn’t seated next to me.
I was both angry and sad, knowing we both played a part in pushing each other away today.
I still wasn’t over the fact that he had blamed me for telling anyone other than my two best friends, whom he had never met, but had already deemed untrustworthy.
Had he really expected me to go through all of this without talking to anyone?
Even so, my guilt began to eat away at me that he wasn’t here, but before I could call him, the ultrasound tech called me back to the room.
Once I was changed into a pink gown, I lay down on the exam table as the tech squirted a clear jelly onto my bare stomach.
I shivered at the coldness before settling back into the table, eagerly watching the screen.
The tech moved the wand over my stomach, until she stopped and pointed at the screen.
“That,” she pointed at a white blob, “is your baby.”
My eyes brimmed with tears. “Wow,” I whispered in awe.
“I’m going to take a few pictures now and then we can listen to the heartbeat.”
I nodded, my eyes fixated on the screen. On our baby.
If I thought that was special, nothing could have prepared me for the sound of its heartbeat filling the room. I couldn’t hold back the tears then. Letting them fall, I soaked in the sound of life that played like a melody. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
After my appointment, all I wanted to do was get to Jeremiah and tell him everything.
The guilt was eating me up inside for pushing him away and not letting him experience what I did in that exam room.
I had taken such an important moment away from him.
I was desperate for us to be on the same page again, not just for us, but for our baby who was so much more real now.
As I walked the sidewalk, hunting for a cab to get me back to the office to see him, I passed by a book shop.
In the window, on a shelf, was the same book Jeremiah had picked up on our lunch date all those weeks ago.
The same one I saw in the café as I ate lunch today.
This time, something about the man’s face on the cover called to me.
I stopped and pulled open the large wooden door, making my way inside.
I found the hardcover book on a table marked with a sign for autobiographies.
Something in Jeremiah’s face changed when he had looked at this book, like the color had drained from him.
I picked up the shiny black book and turned it over to read the back cover for a clue as to why.
I read that it was about a successful, self-made New York stockbroker who grew up from nothing and had to fight for his place in the Big Apple.
I pursed my lips and shrugged, thinking it was just another self-help book.
Still, my curiosity had me opening the book and flipping through the pages.
I stopped when I saw Jeremiah’s name in the black and white print.
Holding the book open, I peered closer as if my eyes were deceiving me, but no.
There was Jeremiah’s name, his full name, staring up at me.
I quickly carried the book to the register and paid for it before settling into a plush armchair in the corner of the shop.
I again opened the book, scanning the pages for any mention of Jeremiah, and there were quite a few.
Too many for me to sit here and read for hours.
I was about to close the book and save it for later, but I stopped short at one of the paragraphs.
It felt like my heart suddenly caught in my throat before falling to the floor.
I read the words over again to make sure I wasn’t going crazy, but there was no mistake in the typed-write print.
I shakily pulled out my phone and called Gabriella.
“Hey, baby mama! How was the ultrasound?” she asked excitedly. She had been eagerly waiting for this day, making me promise I would call her right after.
“He has a criminal record,” I blurted out loudly before cupping my hand over my mouth embarrassedly as others in the bookstore looked at me.
Some curious, some annoyed. We were in a book shop after all.
I closed the book and headed for the door, needing fresh air and scared of whatever outbursts I might have.
“Who? The baby?” asked Gabrielle with a little laugh.
“No. Jeremiah,” I hissed through the phone.