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The job was janitorial work for an assisted living facility, thanks to Ujjal making a call, but it was a foot in the door. They were desperate for care aids, too. Fliss could attain her certificate with only a few courses, and that would improve her pay. She was actively looking for her own place, planning to be on her own again very soon.
Provided, of course, that this persistent tummy bug was actually a tummy bug and not what she was starting to suspect it was.
“You worked late today,” Mrs. Bhamra said as she muted the television.
“I stopped to buy a few things for dinner.” Fliss shrugged out of the baggie hoodie she wore whenever she went out, adding sunglasses like every poorly disguised criminal on the run in every heist movie. “Let me change and wash up, then I’ll get started.”
“You don’t have to cook for me,” Mrs. Bhamra protested. She often ate at the house with her family or her daughter-in-law brought a plate if it was a gloomy day and Mrs. Bhamra preferred to stay here.
“I want to.” Fliss might’ve been borderline destitute, but she drew the line at imposing on the elderly woman’s family. She ate groceries she bought, sharing as often as she could but mostly subsisting on peanut butter toast.
If her suspicions were correct, she needed to start eating more vegetables and probably get some special vitamins.
“Do you know I’ve been thinking of your grandmother all day?” Mrs. Bhamra mused.
“Oh?” Fliss paused in starting toward her room. “I did a reading this morning. I must have conjured her, and she decided to stay and watch your shows with you.”
“Pfft.” Mrs. Bhamra waved that away with amusement. “I did watch a very nice travel program that she would have enjoyed. The host was some fool traveling around the world. He started at the Eiffel Tower, forgot his sunscreen in Australia, got himself stung by a scorpion in America. Did you know they had those there?”
“Scorpions? No.” Fliss pushed a smile onto her lips, but her heart began thudding so hard she grew lightheaded.
The three cards she’d pulled this morning had all been from the Major Arcana—the Sun, the Tower, and the Fool. They were such a powerful combination, she’d barely functioned all day, trying to work out what they meant.
As if the universe was trying to be subtle. The Fool represented blind faith, but it might as well have been a hand mirror.Shewas the fool. The Tower indicated unexpected events. It showed a tower being struck by lightning, throwing two people plummeting to the ground. She was definitely in freefall, but she hadn’t meant to cause Saint’s downfall along with her own.
Finally, the Sun indicated the beginning of a new life cycle. Given she would have to reinvent herself after losing the life she’d made in London, drawing that particular card made sense. The fact that it showed a naked baby on a horse was just a coincidence. Surely.
“Oh, Granny,” she whispered as she slipped into the powder room. “Help me. Please, please, please.”
She didn’t know what outcome she was praying for as she unpacked the pregnancy test. It seemed ridiculous to even be bothering. She and Saint had used condoms. Yes, they’d had a lot of sex that night, butthey’d used condoms.
Still, her cycle had always been regular as clockwork. She had nursed denial for five days, desperately trying to believe the stress of hiding from the press was making her late. That lateness was making her feel queasy. She wasn’t pregnant.
She knew, though. She knew what she would see.
Positive.
How could such a simple procedure, such a thin pale line, upend her life so completely?
As she sat on the closed lid of the toilet staring at the result, she had to fight the pressure of emotive tears that rose behind her eyes.
She knew she had options. She knew that raising a baby alone washard. Especially when your income was scant and unreliable. At least her grandmother had had a small settlement from the crash that had killed Fliss’s parents. That had helped keep the wolves from the door, but that was long gone to Granny’s final years of care. Fliss didn’t have that sort of cushion. Aside from Mrs. Bhamra, she didn’t have anyone who cared about her, and she’d already taken advantage of the elderly woman enough.
There were social services to help, she knew, but even with assistance she was in for a long and difficult struggle. Her dream of becoming a fashion designer was firmly down the loo. Even finding the sort of job that would support her and a baby would be complicated, given this awful black mark of stealing she had on her record. Then there was the notoriety of the baby’s father.
In response to all the questions about her, Saint had made a statement that he didn’t discuss his private life in the public sphere, but that wasn’t stopping the rest of the world from not only pursuing but also capitalizing on her mistake. She’d seen those awful videos from his other lover, disparaging her as a lowly housekeeper and a thief. There were memes all over the internet about her now, too.
My retainer went missing. The housekeeper wore it to the dentist, pretending to be me. Now my celebrity crush is asking for earrings. #RichPeopleProblems
It was excruciating.
I’m being punished, Granny, I really am.
Fliss felt as though she was being punished for ever having dreams in the first place. She shouldn’t compound her situation by giving the world more reason to mock her. Bringing a baby into this mess she’d made would be a terrible mistake.
And how would Saint react? Blame her? Maybe he’d accuse her of getting herself pregnant on purpose to come after his money, but she had truly believed she was protected.
He had used condoms.
