Baby Makes Three
A Brother’s Best Friend’s Secret Baby Romance
By Nicole Elliot
Hi Kittens!
What would happen if you started dating your brother’s best friend? Joanna is about to find out. Things get especially hot when she finds out her crazy ex is in town… and she’s pregnant.
This one is all about the drama!
xxx
Nicole
CHAPTER 1
Joanna
Sometimes love hurts, or at least that’s what I told myself. Lies. I told myself lies. They were the only thing to get me through the day back then. When things were bad. When I thought it couldn’t get any worse.
But it could.
And it would.
The hour was late, the rain was heavy, my cell phone battery was dead, and my tears were even more difficult to see through than the rain. A part of me felt that I should have waited until morning to make my move, or at least waited until the storm was over. But the survivalist in me knew that the storm inside of that apartment would never end unless I physically removed myself from it.
Sometimes it felt impossible to recall the earlier days. Zander had been such a sweetheart in the beginning. But I supposed a lot of them were like that, all smiles and charm in the beginning, and then a living nightmare once they believed their target was in too deep to get back out.
In my case, I guess I had officially gotten in too deep when I decided to move in with Zander. I hadn’t even known him that long at the time. But, I had honestly thought I was in love. I had thought we were in love. So young and naïve, I’d been fully under the impression that I had never cared about anyone so much, and that I would never have those kinds of feelings for another man as long as I lived.
I had believed that Zander and I were soulmates.
I was wrong.
The first few months of dating had been like something straight from a fairytale. I had been so smitten and amazed to think that I had somehow miraculously stumbled upon my very own real-life Prince Charming. He was handsome, romantic, and always seemed to know exactly what to say and do to sweep me right off my weary feet.
Thus, moving in with him had seemed like a no-brainer.
Unfortunately, shortly after, all the trouble began.
It was subtle at first, like the small romantic gestures slowly starting to come to a stop. I wasn’t getting surprised with flowers quite as often as before. Zander didn’t cuddle and kiss me as much. The cute pet-names ceased. He didn’t plan as many fun date-nights and activities. I had chalked it up to the honeymoon phase of our relationship coming to an end, but never once did I consider that Zander didn’t still love me the same any longer.
But then the arguments started, growing in ferocity each time they occurred. I started to notice how Zander would constantly criticize me and every little thing I did, from complaining about the way I did the dishes, to throwing fits if I left a wet towel on the floor after getting out of the shower, and not approving of the way I made the bed because I tucked the sheets too tight. Then he started telling me that I needed to change the way I looked and dressed…
Nitpicking, which eventually evolved into full-blown power struggles.
Control.
But I kept dealing with it because I thought I loved him and that we would eventually wind up married, raising a family, and living happily ever after. I kept telling myself that rough patches happened. They were normal. All couples had them, and the persistent couples with strong love for one another moved through them.
And then, one day, he hit me.
The first time he hit me was a day I would never forget. He had been working late, but had come home even later due to going out for a night of binge-drinking, a habit I hadn’t been aware he possessed until after moving in with him and finding empty bottles stashed around the apartment.
That particular day, when he had finally made it home, there had been a strange feeling in the air. It was exceptionally muggy, and hard to breathe. When he stepped into our apartment, his mood had seemed to suck out what little air we had.
He had gone straight out to the balcony, overlooking the distant streets and palm trees. He stood there, perfectly still, for a long time. I’d crept up behind him, sensing that he needed to be comforted.