“Get right with God,” I snap as I turn to storm downstairs.
Going on so little sleep has me ill-tempered, and people aren’t used to me being less than cheerful.
This is becoming too much. The anticipation. The uncertainty.
I grew up without a father, so I know firsthand the hurt that comes from rejection. I can’t let my child feel that way. Not ever for a second.
Calm down. Think rationally.
Unfortunately, I can’t get my damn head straight.
It would be a mistake to pull out my phone, but I do anyway. It would be even stupider to send a text.
But good sense doesn’t stop me.
And as my thumbs race across the screen, I know it would be a huge lapse in judgment to his SEND.
Which is exactly what I do.
SIXTEEN
Samantha
It’s notunusual for me to wake up to thirty emails in my inbox, but since I hired Maria, I haven’t had more than three. It’s only been a few days, and it’s entirely possible that she’ll start to slack off over time, but for now, I’ll take the win.
I forward legal documents to a client while still in bed, then I reply to a high school that’s interested in having me take part in a career day for their students.
Maybe, just maybe, with Maria’s help, I’ll get my messy clients sorted.
An email from Angela Crumly catches my attention, which is…weird. She’s friends with Bianca, who undoubtedly hates me, but she’s very well put together and doesn’t seem like the type who would stir the pot.
To: Samantha Weston
Hey, I know we’ve never been friends, but we work in the same field and I was hoping you could take a look at thesedocuments for me and tell me what you think. If not, well…embarrassing!
Thanks,
Angela
Something doesn’t feel right about this. The documents look related to her work, but she sent them through her personal account, which is odd.
And while we do work in the same field, she works for Hartwick Corporation, a media conglomerate, and I own a PR company.
I reply, telling her I’ll look when I get a chance, and roll out of bed.
And I mean that literally. My stomach is still small, but it’s taken over my entire world, from the way I lay to the way I walk to the way I put on my seatbelt.
Thankfully, since it’s cold out, I can wear baggy clothes without anyone suspecting anything, but sooner or later…
I press my eyes closed, willing myself to avoid the truth for another day.
My phone pings as I’m brushing my teeth, and I see Toxic’s name pop up.
All at once, my stomach feels woozy and I rush to the toilet.
But this is different from morning sickness. There’s a distinct lack of stomach acid.
And then it hits me—it’s…anticipation.
