At the moment, I can barely breathe and my pulse is going so fast I feel like I’m going to pass out. Unfortunately, I have to know.
“Um, Zora,” I say in a faint voice. “So does this mean you have a bunch of half siblings now?”
My friend scoffs lightly. “Absolutely not. You know my dad and his sleazy ways. He gets girls pregnant in a flash and then he convinces them to terminate the pregnancy. It’s so scandalous and at first I didn’t even know this was happening. But do you remember Scarlet Linklater, the ingenue who was in that movie Blood Letters?”
I nod, feeling faint once more.
“Yes, why?”
“My dad was dating her,” she says in a gossipy voice, “and evidently, she’s one of the ones he got pregnant. She was only twenty-three or something, and in the beginning stages of her career. So I guess he was able to convince her to get rid of the baby. But then a few years later, as part of the #MeToo movement, Scarlet came out with the whole story. She said she felt “used” and “manipulated” by an older man, which I wouldn’t put past Preston. But to be honest, I’ve never talked with him about it. I had to read all about it in a celebrity gossip magazine, and it’s disgusting to even know about your dad’s sex life in such detail. It’s just so gross, not to mention despicable. But what am I supposed to do? He’s my dad and blood is thicker than water, right?”
I’m finding it hard to breathe, and close my eyes before re-opening them to stare blankly at the two little lines on the stick on my bathroom counter.
“Really?” I mumble. “I never would have guessed that about Preston. I mean, he doesn’t seem like the type.”
Zora just sighs.
“They never do,” she says. “But that’s part of his MO, and that’s why he’s so good at it. He seems like the dominant alpha male who’s going to take care of you no matter what, but really, he’s just doing whatever he wants. Trust me on this. I’ve known my dad my whole life, and that silver tongue is a weapon when it comes to women.”
Tears start streaming down my cheeks silently. Oh, if only Zora knew just what I’ve been doing with her father. I’ve been letting him enjoy my curves any time he likes, and loving every second of it. We’ve been sharing intimate conversations and wonderful outings too, but according to his daughter, it’s all fake. When the billionaire finds out I’m pregnant, I too will likely be forced into a horrific situation.
I feel like there’s a tight band around my chest, keeping me from breathing deeply. But I manage to get Zora off the phone without my friend suspecting. Then, the ugly crying begins. Preston has gotten other women pregnant before? It sounds like there was more than one too, although Zora didn’t go into details. But regardless, his actions sound awful and despicable, not to mention cowardly. Is this what’s in store for me too?
I feel queasy again, but this time, no amount of controlled breathing can stop the vomit from rising in my throat. With a gurgle and a disgusting splash, chunks hit the water in the toilet as I cry and sob as my stomach empties its contents. But I don’t care about the physical discomfort because my heart is breaking. The man I love is in fact just a mirage, and somehow, I have to get through the nightmare that is my life.
13
Preston
It’s been a week since I’ve heard anything from Carolyn, and frankly, I’m starting to feel really pissed and angry, not to mention utterly frustrated. After all, the last three months have been idyllic with the curvy girl. We understand each other and generally text or talk on the phone every day. Plus, she’s practically moved in with me, and I love getting to enjoy her body morning, noon, and night.
But my girlfriend hasn’t been feeling so well, so I’ve tried to give her some space. She went back to her apartment, saying something about how she didn’t want me to see her so sick, and that should have been my first warning of things to come. Of course I don’t care if she looks messy and ill. The curvy woman is beautiful to me even in dirty sweats with a rat’s nest on her head. Regardless, Carolyn insisted and I let her go.
But now, it’s been a week and I haven’t heard from her. I’ve called, texted, and even emailed, but she never replies. It’s as if she’s ghosted me. But why? We didn’t argue. In fact, we’ve never really had a spat, and definitely not about anything serious. Yes, there were little disagreements here and there about where to go for dinner or what movie to watch, but nothing that ever turned into hurt feelings. At least, not that I was aware of.