Chapter 23 Zofia #2
The thought hurt that one day he might meet someone for real. A woman who he fell in love with who would wear his ring and have his kids, and I’d be forgotten.
I hated that.
Because he was mine.
I’d only known for a few minutes, but I already loved our little bean. Tears pricked my eyes, and I cursed myself internally.
Damn hormones. I wanted him or her, no matter what. I wanted to be a mom.
I just didn’t expect it to happen like this.
“Do you want me to take you to the doctor? You’ve been sick for too long.” He took a few steps toward me, his hand reaching out to brush the hair back off my forehead. “I hate seeing you like this.”
I opened my mouth to tell him, but nothing came out. Instead, I shook my head, trying not to preen at the contact, at how much I loved every touch. “No. I just need to sleep it off, I think.”
I hated I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Want me to grab you anything for dinner?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure what I can keep down, though.”
He offered me a smile that made my insides melt. “I’ll bring you some toast and ginger ale. How's that sound?”
“Perfect,” I admitted.
Nicolas helped me into bed, handing me my paperback off the nightstand, before heading back downstairs. “I’ll be back. Text me if you need anything.”
“Okay,” I whispered, snuggling into the sheets as I watched his backside disappear out the door, appreciating the sight of his ass in those pants. And why shouldn’t I? He was my husband, and he had a very nice one.
Struggling to keep my eyes open even as I read my book, I finally succumbed to sleep, waking up hours later to Nicolas wrapped around me and the light no longer coming in through the blinds.
“Nic?” I whispered, cuddling back into his hold. It was warm and comfortable, and I felt safe. I shouldn’t have felt like this, but I couldn’t help it. He was too damn perfect not to fall in love with.
“Yeah, baby?” He was stroking my hair.
I tasted bile in my mouth. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. Wasn’t sure I could force the words from my lips.
Tomorrow. I’d figure out how to tell him tomorrow.
“Nothing,” I murmured. “Now, will you hold me again?” I wrapped my arms around his middle, lowering my face to his chest and inhaling his ocean scent. It somehow made even the nausea fade, if only a bit.
“You sure you don’t want anything to eat?” His words were a whisper as his fingers delicately traced down the bare skin of my back.
I shook my head. “Right now, I just need you.”
Every few minutes, I’d stared at Nic’s door, trying to will myself to go in there and tell him my life-changing news.
I’m pregnant.
And yet, I was frozen. Unable to move from the chair.
I’d gotten up early this morning—before Nic had even woken up—and slipped outside, watching as the sun rose over Portland from the front porch.
I knew how stupid I was.
How ridiculous it was to hope things would change. And yet, here I was.
I wiped a tear off my cheek.
Everything I’d thought would be a negative about being with someone had turned into positives with Nicolas.
He’d never asked me to give up my career, to change myself.
He supported me, cared for me—and I even liked the way he took care of me.
It was a strange realization that I could be independent and yet still rely on someone else.
I’d worried that people would think less of me, being in a relationship with the man I worked under, and yet, a month later, the reaction from everyone at the office had been overwhelmingly positive.
Sure, there might always be whispers I was just sleeping with him to get a better position with the company—but both of us knew better.
And in the end, that was the only thing that mattered to me.
He was nothing like my ex. I knew that down to my bones.
So why did I have this feeling in my gut that said everything was about to implode in my face?
I wasn’t sure what I expected, but Alexander Larsen standing in front of my desk wasn’t it. I hadn’t seen him since the day we’d had dinner at his house.
“Mr. Larsen,” I said, giving him a firm smile. “Nic’s in a meeting right now, but how can I help?”
“I’m actually not here to see him, Zofia.” He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. “I’m here to see you.”
I frowned. “You… are?”
He nodded. “I’m glad you two seem to be happy. I know Nic mentioned that you two had decided to wait to have kids until later, but I was hoping to change your mind.”
Oh. I resisted curling my hand over my still-flat stomach.
If only he knew. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know why that’s any of your business?
” My brows furrowed. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own child—you know, the one who’s about to be born?
” I’d never had a problem with Nic’s dad before, but I was so confused as to why he was really here.
“Of course, it’s my business,” his father said, running his finger along the edge of my desk.
I wasn’t sure I loved his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “A few months ago, when I’d brought up the idea of Nic getting married, he told me he didn’t even want a wife. And then, a month later, you had his ring on your finger. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t like what you’re implying, Mr. Larsen.”
Alexander shrugged. “Maybe he married you to get his inheritance after all.”
“His inheritance?” I froze. “What?”
His eyes drifted to mine. “You didn’t know?”
I shook my head. “No. I thought—the board said he needed to be more settled. Committed. And you—we—”
“It’s one of the conditions for him to get his inheritance from his grandfather. A marriage—and a child.”
My eyes widened. “What?” What was happening right now? Did Nicolas really marry me for money?
He didn’t even know I was pregnant yet, but somehow, that was the other condition?
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I murmured, sliding my desk chair over to grab the trash can from under my desk.
Alexander gave me a look. “Huh. I guess maybe I didn’t have to come convince you after all.”
“I can’t—”
Footsteps interrupted my thoughts.
“Dad?” That was Nicolas’s voice. “What are you doing here?”
I looked up into the eyes of my husband—my fake husband—wondering if the entire foundation for our relationship had been a lie.