23. Ava
Ava
“Not again,” I murmur.
I quickly stand from behind my desk and make the trek to the bathroom. I’m walking fast but not running.
I think I can make it. Every morning like clockwork, the morning sickness hits. I always think I’m going to manage to skip a day, but then it hits.
I’ve learned not to try and fight it. That just prolongs my misery.
I push open the door and rush into the stall, barely getting the door closed before I’m hurling into the toilet.
Once all is said and done, I step out of the stall, thankful no one else came in.
I turn on the faucet and dampen some paper towels.
I pat the back of my neck and face. My stomach is still churning.
I can feel the sour taste of bile in the back of my throat.
This morning sickness is relentless, and it’s getting harder to hide.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror.
My face is pale, my eyes tired. I’ve been keeping crackers in my desk drawer, nibbling on them throughout the day to keep the nausea at bay.
So far, no one has noticed—or at least, no one has said anything.
But I know it’s only a matter of time before the cat is out of the bag.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The doctor confirmed it last week—I’m seven weeks along. Seven weeks. It still doesn’t feel real.
He assures me the morning sickness will pass. I don’t know if I believe him. But I’m holding out hope it will only last a few more weeks. I honestly don’t think I’m tough enough to take it much longer than that.
I pull the little toothbrush from my purse, something I never leave home without these days. I brush my teeth, hoping I won’t have to do it again in a few minutes. I rinse and spit just as I hear the door open behind me.
Sierra walks in, her heels clicking against the tile floor. She stops when she sees me, her sharp eyes narrowing as she takes in my disheveled appearance.
“Ava,” she says, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Are you okay? You look … unwell.”
I force a smile, grabbing a paper towel to dry my hands. “I’m fine. Just a stomach bug.”
She tilts her head, her lips curling into a smirk. “A stomach bug? Or something else?”
My heart skips a beat, but I keep my expression neutral. She’s fishing. I’ll give her nothing. “Something else?” I question innocently.
She looks me up and down like I’m a bug she’s never seen before and is trying to figure out how to kill. “Oh, come on, Ava. Don’t play dumb. I know your type.”
I’m cranky. Chalk it up to hormones or exhaustion, but I have zero patience with the woman. “You know my type? Interesting. What type would that be? Smart? Capable. What is it, Sierra? What is it about me that you find so unpalatable? Is it jealousy?”
I shouldn’t poke the bear. I know that, but I’ve put up with her bullshit long enough. She doesn’t scare me. She annoys me.
Sierra's expression reveals her surprise that I’ve dared to fight back. Her perfectly arched eyebrows raise slightly. "Jealous? Of you?" She laughs, but it's hollow, forced. "Please. What could I possibly be jealous of?"
I cross my arms, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence I haven't felt in weeks. Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones, or maybe I'm just tired of her games, but I'm done playing nice.
"I don't know, Sierra. Maybe the fact that Nick actually cares about me? That I don't have to blackmail him to keep him in my life?"
Her eyes widen, and for a split second, I see genuine shock on her face before it's replaced by cold fury. "He told you."
"Of course he did. We don't have secrets."
That's not entirely true, but she doesn't need to know that. Nick and I haven't spoken in over two weeks. He's been traveling, and I've been … well, throwing up and trying to figure out how to tell my family I'm pregnant.
But he’s not here, and I can mess with her. God knows she’s been making my life hell for weeks. And the countless other people that work here.
Sierra takes a step closer. For a brief second, I wonder if she’s going to take this to the next level.
Is she going to get physical? "Listen to me, little girl.
Nick may be infatuated with you right now, but it won't last. It never does.
And when he gets bored—and he will get bored—don't come crying to me. "
I laugh, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. "Why would I come to you? You're the last person I'd ever turn to for anything."
Sierra's eyes narrow, her mouth twisting into a scowl. "You think you're so special, don't you? You think you're different from all the others? And trust me, there are a lot of others. You’re one of many."
"I don't think anything," I say, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "I know what Nick and I have."
I’m totally lying. Bullshitting her just to get under her skin. And it’s working.
She takes another step closer, invading my personal space. I can smell her expensive perfume, something floral and overpowering that makes my stomach churn again.
"Let me tell you something about Nick Sullivan," she says, her voice low and venomous.
"He gets bored. Always. He'll wine you and dine you, make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and then one day, he'll just …
stop. No explanation, no warning. He'll just move on to the next shiny toy that catches his eye. "
I feel a flicker of doubt, but I push it away. "Is that what happened with you? He got bored? Oh no, that’s not right. You cheated on him."
Her face hardens, and I know I've hit a nerve. "You little bitch,” she hisses.
She’s trying to intimidate me. I lean in. “Fuck you. Truth hurts, right. Leave me alone.”
The nausea is coming back with a vengeance. I lean away from her, a mental argument going on in my head. Am I going to puke again? Can I hold it back?
Nope.
I rush back into the stall. Humiliation rolls through me, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Thankfully, it’s brief. I know it’s too much to hope Sierra has left me alone.
When I step out of the stall, she’s standing there, anger burning in her eyes. Her hands are on her hips, and it’s clear she hates me.
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
It’s an accusation. She says it like she’s accusing me of murder. Like there’s blood on my hands.
I feel a surge of panic, but I don’t let it show. “That’s none of your business, Sierra.”
She laughs, the sound cold and mocking. “None of my business? Please. Everyone in this office knows you’ve been fucking Nick. And now you’re pregnant? What a coincidence.”
“Back off, Sierra.”
I move to the sink to rinse my mouth for the second time in five minutes.
She steps even closer. “You’re a fool if you think a baby is going to trap a man like Nick. He’s not the settling-down type. Trust me, I would know.”
I feel a surge of anger, but I don’t respond. I grab my purse and shoot her a dirty look. “Move.”
She doesn’t. I step around her and make my way back to my office.
I should have done a better job denying it.
By lunchtime, the entire office knows.
I can feel the stares and hear the whispers. My cheeks burn with humiliation, but I keep my head high, refusing to let them see how much it hurts.
I make it through the rest of the workday, but just barely. She’s the only one that knows. She’ll empathize. We can talk shit about Sierra together.
Amelia opens the door, her eyes widening when she sees me. “Ava? What’s wrong?”
I burst into tears, collapsing into her arms. She leads me to the couch, holding me as I pour my heart out.
“Sierra found out,” I say, my voice trembling. “She told the whole office. Everyone knows.”
“That bitch,” Amelia hisses. “I’m telling Jessie. He’ll kick Nick’s ass for this.”
I shake my head, wiping my tears. “No. This is my problem to solve. I’ll talk to Nick.”
Amelia looks at me, her expression softening. “Ava, this isn’t just your problem. Nick’s just as involved in this as you are. You can’t keep giving him time to ‘process.’ He needs to step up.”
I nod, my chest tightening. “I know. I’ll talk to him.”
Amelia sighs, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Did you go to the doctor?”
She referred me to her doctor, which gave me some comfort. If she trusted him, I did too.
I nod, pulling out the ultrasound photo from my bag. “Seven weeks. Everything looks good so far.”
Amelia smiles, her eyes filling with tears. “Ava, this is huge. You’re going to be a mom. Our babies are going to grow up together.”
I feel a surge of emotions—fear, excitement, hope—and I don’t know what to say. But then I nod, my voice soft. “Yeah. I am.”
“I still have some ginger tea from my pregnancy,” Amelia says. “I’ll make you a cup, and you can tell me all about it.”
She returns a minute later with a cup.
"So tell me exactly what happened," she says, settling beside me.
I sigh, taking a small sip of the tea. "I was in the bathroom, throwing up as usual, and Sierra walked in. She immediately started with her usual snide comments. But this time, I just snapped."
"What did you say?" Amelia's eyes are wide with anticipation.
"I basically called her out for being jealous of me and Nick. I told her I knew about her cheating on him."
"You didn't!" Amelia gasps, a mixture of horror and admiration in her voice.
"I did. And then I threw up again, right in front of her." I groan, covering my face with my hands. "It was so humiliating, Amelia. And of course, she immediately figured out I was pregnant."
"That absolute witch," Amelia mutters.
"She basically told me a baby wouldn't trap Nick, that he'd get bored with me. The usual Sierra special." I set my tea down. "By lunchtime, everyone was whispering about it. I could feel their eyes on me all day. Everyone sees me as a gold digger trying to have the boss’s baby. Like it’s some golden ticket.”
“Screw them,” she says. “The only opinion that matters is yours. But can I give you some advice?”
“Of course.”
“Talk to Nick. Now. Don’t let this fester. And don’t take this on yourself. He should be helping make things easier, not harder.”
I sigh. “I know. He’s been gone since his parents left. He’s checked in a couple of times, but it just feels weird. Strained.”
“Which is why you need to make him talk to you. You two are adults bringing a baby into the world. You have to act like it.”
“I know, I know.”
I finish my tea and go home feeling better about things. I’m so glad I can count on my sister to be my backup.
I change into my sweats, put on my fluffy slippers, and text Nick.
We need to talk.
He responds almost immediately.
I’ll come to your place.
This is it. No more hiding. No more pretending.
It’s time to face the music and figure out a plan that is best for our baby.