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“I told you to give them to Mrs. DeMarco.” He raises his voice, and there's so much tension in his tone, that I swear he’s going to hit the roof.
“I don’t want them…” I place my hand over my mouth as the smell wafts under my nose and I suddenly feel like I’m going to be sick. I get up and dash out of the room, running across the hall and practically skidding into the tiny bathroom that Dario has the staff use. There's no time for me to close the door behind me before my stomach empties into the basin. I feel a hand stroking my back and when I look up in the mirror and see him in the reflection looking sorry for me, it takes everything I have not to swing for him.
“You okay?” His voice comes out softer than I’ve ever heard it, and all the anger on his face has morphed into something that looks a lot like empathy.
“I’m fine.” I shrug him away to give me some space.
“You need to see a doctor,” he argues, touching his hand back onto the base of my spine as I rinse out the basin.
“I don’t need a doctor. I have a hangover.” I stick to my lie, despite feeling weak and helpless. If seeing the test wasn’t enough to let it sink in, actually being sick instead of just feeling it has just reminded me that I’m actually growing a child inside me.
“Madalina, you said you felt sick before you drank, you should at least do a test.”
“What kind of test?” I turn around and look him dead in his evil, twisted eyes.
“A pregnancy test. I have some in my office. We can do one together, right now.”
“A pregnancy test?” I manage to laugh. “I take the pill, I don’t need to do a pregnancy test. And why do you keep a supply of pregnancy tests in your office?” I stare back at him, acting confused.
“Just take a test, Madalina,” he whispers weakly, refusing to look back at me.
“No.” I fold my arms, standing firm, and suddenlyany calm he was keeping vanishes. He steps forward using his arms to cage me in as he presses his palms into the wall behind me.
“You are taking afucking test,” he tells me through gritted teeth.
“I don’t need to.”
“Yes, you–”
“I don’t need to because I already did one!” I cut him off before he can argue, then taking the thin white stick that I pissed on yesterday from my pocket, I shove it into his chest.
“Congratulations, Dario DeMarco, you're going to be a father.” I knee him in his balls causing him to fold over in agony as I force my way out of the bathroom. Then, I ignore his calls after me as I race up the stairs and lock myself in my room.
DARIO
“Madalina, let me in.” I slam my fist against the door, I don’t care how bad my fucking balls are throbbing right now. I have to get to her.
She gives me no response and I curse myself for leaving the fucking lock on this door and enabling her to put a barrier between us.
“Madalina, let me in or I will kick down this door!” I yell, and once again I get ignored.
I don’t know how to contain my anger, it’s never something I’ve had to do before, but I must remind myself that no matter how angry I am, this woman is carrying my child.
“Madalina,” I say her name again, this time much calmer. “We need to talk, what you did was very stupid.”
“Stupid?” The door clicks open and when I see her standing in front of me, I have to duck so I miss the swing she makes at my head.
“Yes, fucking stupid.” I step inside and wrap my arms around her, ensuring that she does me or herself no harm.
“Let go of me! I don’t want you touching me.” She struggles against my hold and I grip her tighter.
“Calm down and I’ll let you go.” I move us over to the bed and rest her on the mattress.
“How thefuckdo you expect me to be calm when you did this to me?” she yells.
“You were the one drinking, do you know what damage that could do?—.”
“I lied!” She screams at me and I quickly release her and take a step back.
