Page 30 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

Classes during the day. Prep at night. Lying in bed at midnight staring at the ceiling.

I still thought about Ivan.

Every time, I called myself pathetic.

Who can't I live without?

That night, I was about to wash up when my stomach suddenly lurched. Acid surged up from the bottom of my throat. I bolted to the toilet, crouched down, retched until there was nothing left.

I stared at myself in the mirror. My face was ghostly pale. Lips completely bloodless.

I stumbled back a step.

Something by my foot got kicked.

I looked down. Empty pickle jars scattered everywhere, rolling across the floor.

I stared at them, counted—empty, empty, all empty.

Then it hit me. I hadn't had my period in almost a month.

Pregnant?

Could I be pregnant?

Gripping the cold edge of the sink, my heart pounded. Panic and hope crawled through me.

I splashed cold water on my face. The icy shock made my skin tighten.

The face staring back at me in the mirror was still pale, but something in my eyes had changed. I held that gaze for two seconds, then grabbed my coat and ran downstairs.

The twenty-four-hour pharmacy on the corner glowed harsh white.

I stood at the entrance for three seconds. Took a hard breath.

Calm down.

Anna, stay calm.

I walked in with forced composure. Grabbed a pregnancy test. Paid. One smooth motion.

Clutching the test, I ran all the way back to my rental.

Sitting on the toilet seat in the bathroom, I stared at the small plastic stick in my hand. Every passing second felt painfully slow. When the pale pink second line gradually appeared, a single thought filled my mind.

I'm screwed.

The room was quiet.

On the windowsill, the half-dead pothos drooped a vine, thin and long, the tip curling slightly.

I looked down at the two lines on the test.

Pink. Fine. Not fading.

A baby.

Ivan's baby.