That insulting gesture must have cut him deeply.
But I'd been terrified. Terrified of his world, his violence, terrified I'd get pulled in deeper and deeper until one day I'd end up dead because of him.
So I'd chosen the most hurtful way possible to try to sever all connections.
But now...
I touched my stomach and let out a bitter laugh.
What connections had I severed? The bond between us was literally growing inside my body.
When my editor had called me into his office earlier today, I'd thought I was finally getting promoted. After all, I'd worked myself to the bone this past month—pulling all-nighters, chasing leads until my feet gave out, even spending weekends at the office.
I'd thrown myself into work to forget him, to prove my worth, to get my life back on track.
And what had I gotten for it?
"Anna," my supervisor had said, sitting behind his desk with a greasy smile, "I've been watching your work ethic. But you know how competitive this industry is. If you want that promotion... you'll need to put in some extra 'effort.'"
The way he'd said "effort," his eyes roaming over my body, had made my skin crawl.
"Come to my place tonight. We can have a proper 'discussion' about your future. What do you say?"
I'd refused on the spot.
His expression had transformed instantly from fake friendliness to vicious rage. "Who the hell do you think you are? Some nobody intern who can't even get through probation, and you're giving me attitude? I've got news for you—there are a dozen girls just like you waiting for your spot. Ungrateful little bitch!"
He'd screamed at me for ten solid minutes, spittle flying while I stood frozen, feeling my dignity get ground into dust beneath his feet.
Finally, he'd snarled, "Don't bother coming in tomorrow. HR will process your termination."
Walking out of his office, my coworkers had all given me those looks—pity, schadenfreude, and from some of the women, that knowing "I told you so" expression.
No one had said anything, but I'd known exactly what they were thinking.
"Another naive girl who wouldn't play the game."
"In this business, certain sacrifices are just part of the job."
"What did she expect?"
I'd run straight to the bathroom and vomited.
I'd been vomiting ever since.
Now I straightened up at the sink and took a shaky breath. The woman in the mirror looked back with red-rimmed eyes and bloodless lips, ready to collapse at any moment.
But I couldn't collapse.
I still had rent to pay, camera payments to make, and now...
My hand unconsciously pressed against my flat stomach.
Still nothing to feel. But I knew something was quietly taking root there.
I'd been lying to myself for weeks.
Nausea? Just stress.
