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Then…
“Whatisthat?”
My upper lip curls but I don’t bother lifting my head. She knows damn well what this is. She’d shown me one of her own not but a week earlier.
“You aren’t allowed to do whatever you want because you’re pregnant with my child.” I snarl.
I flinch, staring at the ultrasound. Not because of it, but because her heels click, telling me she’s coming closer instead of the other way. The absolute opposite direction I want her headed.
The bland expression I shoot at the person sitting across from me goes unfazed. My pride is choked, locked, and held in place.
This. The photo sitting in my hand is my greatest joy but also my heaviest burden. I should be celebrating. The black-and-white card was new from our appointment this morning. The smallness of the child we’d created together growing larger every day.
Lillian and I’s child. A girl.
Despite this mess I’ve gotten myself into, my chest swells, because I’m going to be a dad.
“That’s exactly what that means,” Lorna hums in her own self-approval. Making herself too comfortable on the other side of my desk when she has her own to get back to.
“Didn’t Silas need some copies made before our meeting this afternoon?”
“Already finished,” she notes, staring at her cuticles.
“The phones then? We have an important call we’re expecting—”
“—With the holders in Australia. I know.” She says scoffing while her eyes find the ceiling. “I don’t expect them for another thirty minutes. Spare me five.”
I don’t want to spare youfiveseconds, my expression screams.
My one moment of weakness, the entire reason I’m in this mess, to begin with. I have no one else to blame but myself. I fucked up and am now forced to deal with the consequences.
“Besides,” Lorna derides. Voice singsongy as she rubs at the flatness of her belly. Lillian’s now a small bump. “With baby and all, I should stay off my feet more anyway.”
“Your job is seated behind the reception desk.” Arching a brow, I remind her of her place in this company like she isn’t already aware she’s only a secretary.
Catching, my gaze is once again drawn to the photo I’ve refused to put away since we left the appointment. Never would I admit the embarrassing number of times this one photo has distracted me from my work today.
I’m going to be a dad.
“You know, Lillian isn’t the only one carrying your seed,” she spits out. That familiar hint of jealousy coating her words.
A normal person who wasn’t used to her envious antics might take offense, but I’d grown used to it in the months she’s worked here. Her wanting what others have, not my insecurity to worry about or work through.
Making sure she completes the tasks we assign my only care, and she’s rather diligent. Staying on task and up to date. Which is how she’s managed to last so long.
My tongue clicks. “Lorna, that’s unprofessional.”
Rising from her chair her fingers glide along the surface of my desk, face razor-sharp and disturbingly provocative.
“You mean as unprofessional as you fucking me right on top of this desk about a month ago?” she broods and my skin crawls, not needing the reminder.
That blissful bubble of seeing my daughter’s sonogram bursts once again.
I messed up.Bad.
It had been late; Silas had left not an hour earlier, and I was stressed finishing up things before the deadline. Lorna had come in, dropping off what I hardly remember—it’s all irrelevant now.
Only she hadn’t left, pouring drinks from the bar caddy instead. One led to two, and two led to nine, and before I knew it, she’d lifted her dress and was bending herself over my desk.
