I toss my silver heels into the closet and make my way to the kitchen. I would murder for a stiff drink right now, but I’m going to have to settle for Neapolitan ice cream. I don’t even like Neapolitan ice cream, and I’m half-tempted to text him that. Ever since I moved in here, Ransome has kept a stocked kitchen for me, all healthy foods to nourish me and the baby. It’s very nutritious, save for one pint of rotating ice cream flavors, andjust my luck, it’s never the flavor I’m in the mood for. Still, it’s the best I’m going to get.
I pluck the container from the freezer and grab a spoon from the drawer, closing it with my hip. Then I proceed to dig a hole to China in the strip of strawberry, because the other flavors are unappealing to me.
As soon as the sweet cream hits my stomach, the baby starts moving around. I think it’s the sugar. Normally, it would bring a smile to my face. But right now, it only brings tears to my eyes.
Don’t get me wrong. I love this baby. But being pregnant with a married man’s baby is something I could do without.
As I stand in the kitchen in my underwear—a lacy black set that I wore assuming it would be seen at some point tonight—I catch my reflection in the sheen of the stainless steel refrigerator.
When did I get so pregnant? I look like a cow. A cow eating ice cream. A cow eating ice cream in her underwear because I left a party early because I was wearing the same dress as the baby’s father’s wife.
I toss the ice cream in the trash and throw the spoon in the sink with a clamor. Who am I kidding? Jenica is gorgeous. Not only that, but she’s rich and powerful and comes from a family worthy of being in Ransome’s presence. Even if he does hate all of them. Ransome hates everything, so that’s not the point.
The point is I am pregnant and alone and don’t belong there. And as I look around the room, at all the expensive furniture and original art and the view of the city, I realize I don’t belong here either.
I don’t belong with him.
Sweeping up my dress off his perfect floor in his perfect estate.
My phone rings in my purse, and I make my way back over to the floor by the door where I dropped it. Electra’s face pops up on the screen and I answer it.
“Girl. You will not believe what Sean did,” she starts without even saying hello.
“Let me guess. He’s seeing someone else and you deleted his number and threw the gifts he gave you in the toilet.”
“What? Oh my God, no. Even if we did break up, I’d be keeping the gifts. Do you have any idea how much they’re worth?”
“I mean, I’ve seen the diamonds, so I’m guessing a lot.”
“Alot-lot. But no. We didn’t break up. He bought me a car.”
I blink. “He bought you acar.”
“Yes!” Electra squeals. “It’s a fucking Mercedes!”
“Your boyfriend of six months bought you a Mercedes.”
“Yeah,” she says, and while I can still hear the smile in her voice, I can tell I’m bumming her out a little bit. But I mean, a car? Come on. “What’s with the tone, Grumpy?”
“I don’t have a tone,” I tell her as I lean back against the wall. “I just… Doesn’t it seem a little weird to you?”
“Says the girl who is living in her baby daddy’s fucking castle.” She snorts. “It’s just a car.”
“But a Mercedes,” I point out.
“Yeah, well, he’s not going to buy me a Civic.”
“I’m just saying, it feels like lovebombing.” I grab the broom again, because I have no less than five sequins stuck to the bottoms of my feet and I’m going fucking insane. “Also, when do I get to meet him?”
“He works a lot.”
“So does everyone else. But I mean, you go out with him.You dogo out with him, right? On dates?”
“Yes, we go on dates!” she snaps. “Just not… in the traditional sense.”
I stop sweeping. “What do you meannot in the traditional sense?”
“Like… we don’t go to normal places. We go to hole-in-the-wall bars and stuff. Places where, if you didn’t know it was there, you totally wouldn’t know it was there.”
