I shove down one more small bite and wait, praying my belly settles. When it does, I force another. But my slow plan isn’t working. Nausea rolls through me not in a wave but driving a damn steamroller.
I rush to the bathroom, knocking the chair over in the process. My knees sting from how hard I hit the floor to throw up everything I tried to keep down.
When the worst of it subsides, as do my dry heaves, I lay my head on the side of the toilet. I’ll take a shower later. Right now, I just need to rest a second.
I’ve been feeling like crap for a week, a couple of weeks, I’m not sure. It used to just be after I ate, but now it seems to be constant. It makes me worry that Sal damaged something in me with his first assault. Something the doctor may have missed.
The second I mention it to Adrian, he’ll call the doctor, and then there will be so many tests and more bed rest, and I’ll go crazy with boredom as Adrian forces me to stay under the covers until well after I feel better. It seems easier to deal with it myself and wait things out. Maybe it’s just a stomach bug or food poisoning? Does food poisoning last this long?
I mean, I can’t be pregnant…right? It takes me a minute to remember the last time I had my period. It’s been so long I can’t even remember the exact date.
I shove off the toilet bowl and sit up straight, waiting for the room to stop spinning. When it doesn’t, I stand, brush my teeth, wash my face, and stare at myself in the mirror. Outside of the nausea, I feel okay. Normal. My belly is still flattish, although I’ve put on a little weight from living with Adrian as he does force me to eat at least three meals a day.
Women know if they are pregnant? Right? They can feel it? I test my breasts, cupping them in my hands. They don’t feel any more sensitive than usual. My body feels the same as always.
Shit. But I can’t just assume it’s all good and not check. However, the second I leave the penthouse, someone will be on my tail. Worse, Adrian will know exactly where I go and what I buy. I’m not ready to mention it to him until I know for sure. Not until I see the proof for myself.
There’s only one option I have, and it’s one I never wanted to take as it will get both of us in trouble if he spills later.
I grab my phone out of my pocket and request Kai meet me at my bedroom door.
He almost meets me there, questions in his eyes because I don’t text him.
“Come in,” I say, holding the door open wide.
“No, I’m good right here.”
I sigh, grip the sleeve of his very expensive suit, and drag him into the room. “You don’t want to be out in the open when I ask you this.”
He waits, his face not too patient with me now. “What do you need?”
I cross to sit on the bed, my legs feeling wobbly now, my courage failing. No. I can’t be scared of this, especially if I am pregnant.
I shift to face him. “I’m calling in your debt. You owe me your life, and I’m calling in the debt under the conditions no one knows what I’m about to ask you.”
If I thought he looked wary before, it’s nothing compared to his face now as he stares at me. “Really? This better be a doozy for you to pull that card.”
I shrug and wait for his answer.
He glares a moment longer, then nods. “Fine. What is it?”
“You promise you won’t say anything about this to Adrian?”
“I promise, for God’s sake, Valentina, just tell me.”
I relax a little bit. Kai might not be a saint, but I trust his word if he gives it. “I need you to go get me a pregnancy test. Maybe three just to be safe and completely sure.”
I risk another glance at him. Now he doesn’t look upset. He looks like I slapped him. “You.” He stops and turns away, then spins back. “You think you’re pregnant? Since when?”
I wave at the bathroom. “Now, just now. I haven’t been feeling well, and then it hit me that I haven’t had my period. But I don’t want to say anything to Adrian until I know for sure one way or the other.”
Kai’s usually perfect skin is gray as he stares at me hard, like I’m about to spout another head or proclaim I’m pregnant with his boss’s baby one more time. There’s really nothing else to say so I wait for him to wrestle with this revelation.
Then he walks out without another word, leaving me staring at the empty doorway and semi-darkened hallway. Well, if he comes back with it, cool. If not, then I’ll have to think of a plan B to get tested. Or tell Adrian and he’ll help me do it. I just really don’t want to give him more to worry about if it’s just my imagination or my body still recovering from everything it’s been through.