by S. E. Law
“George, I know you aren’t working right now, but would guys mind dropping me off at Whitney’s? I need to see her. Sarah’s right. She is a special person and I love her. It’s important that I tell her this.”
“It’s about time you admit it,” the teenager scoffs.
“She’s right,” George laughs, and we head to the elevator. I have a smile on my face, but inside, my heart is pounding. I need to see Whitney. The question is: will she see me?
20
Whitney
I wasn’t lying to Peter when I told him I was sick. I’ve been vomiting nearly every morning since my parents came to visit. My head hurts, and I’m constantly nauseous. Not to mention the fact that I’ve barely eaten in the last couple weeks, and every time I do, it just ends up coming back up.
Then again, I guess this is what depression feels like. All I want to do is sleep. I have Netflix on, but I have no idea what I’ve actually watched because I fade in and out of a semi-aware state of consciousness. I’ve gotten up the energy to shower just a handful of times, and I’m sure I smell awful. This morning, staring at my pale reflection in the mirror, suddenly a nagging suspicion reared its ugly head.
Peter and I made love every day, sometimes even multiple times a day, and we weren’t as careful as we should have been. We used protection but occasionally, things heated up so fast that we slipped up a few times. What if the nausea and fatigue are being caused by another life growing inside me?
Now, it’s time to find out. I take the pink box out of the paper bag with trembling fingers. I read the directions on the box and it’s as simple as the commercials claim. Just pee on the stick and wait. I do as instructed, and wait the allotted time. My nerves are jittery and my heart pounds. Not to mention that my head aches
When it comes time, I pick up the plastic indicator, and see the result: pregnant. I’m going to have Peter’s baby.
The blood rushes to my head as I grip the bathroom counter, trying to come to terms with this new knowledge. A baby! A child born of my love for Peter, and the passion we felt together. Suddenly, I know what I want. I want this baby. I want to teach her or him how to bake. I want to go to Central Park and the Bronx Zoo pushing a stroller. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Peter, but this baby will be loved, no matter what.
Suddenly, there’s a banging on my door and I can’t imagine who it could be. I haven’t been noisy, nor am I expecting any deliveries.
“Wrong door,” I call out, assuming that the visitor is looking for one of my neighbors. I just want to be left alone to contemplate this miracle, even if it’s scary and overwhelming.
“Whitney, open the damn door!” a deep voice thunders.
I freeze. Oh shit, it’s Peter. I’m so not ready to face him.
“Whitney, if this is about the bakery, I’ll give you one hundred thousand dollars to keep it afloat. Let me in. I just want to talk to you,” he calls.
I hear a door swing open across the hall.
“I’ll help out at the bakery for a hundred grand,” my sketchy neighbor Trevor volunteers. I hate that guy and his skeezy ways. Stomping to the front door, I yank it open and pull Peter inside before he gets himself mugged.
“How did you get in the building?” I demand, my voice raised in accusation. My face is blotchy, I’m in a pair of old sweats that haven’t been washed in a week, and my hair is a rat’s nest. Oh well. This is what he gets.
“I knocked on the first floor window and flashed a hundred dollar bill. Your downstairs neighbor had no qualms about buzzing me in,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Jesus, Peter, you’re going to get yourself mugged. This isn’t TriBeCa. This is Hell’s Kitchen! It’s not safe!”
He just shrugs again, looking ungodly handsome as usual. His black hair is pushed back and those cobalt eyes seem even more blue in the dim light of my apartment.
“I don’t care. I couldn’t let you lock me out of your life without a fight. What’s going on, Whitney? I thought everything was going so well between us. I miss you, sweetheart, but ugh, you look terrible. Are you really that sick? Why won’t you let me help you?”
My traitor cat is curling in and out of Peter’s legs, and I shake with a mix of fury and sadness. Why does he have to be so irresistible? Did he just call me “sweetheart” again? My heart breaks even as I launch into my tirade.
“Peter, I can’t be a place holder until you go back to your regular life.”
“You can’t be a what?” he asks, his brow wrinkling. “I didn’t get that.”
I take a deep breath.
“A place holder. You know, someone who keeps the spot called ‘girlfriend’ occupied until the real thing comes along.”
He looks totally baffled.
“Where would you get such a ridiculous idea? You aren’t a place holder. Who told you that?”
I shake my head.
“Peter, I can never be what those socialites and supermodels are.”
He shoots me a wry look.
“Of course you can’t. You don’t have it in you to be shallow or superficial, sweetheart. You’re kind and warm and sexy and beautiful and so many other things and that’s exactly why I’m in love with you. I hate those girls, and have had it up to here with them. I want you, Whitney.”
My ears ring, and it’s as if I’m standing at the bottom of a pool, looking up. Peter is looking down at me while saying something, but I can’t hear. Did he just say that he’s in love with me?
Suddenly, a wave of nausea washes over my form and I race to the bathroom before violently vomiting up the limited contents of my stomach. It’s ugly. Drool falls from the corners of my mouth as I heave, and little spatters of breakfast hit the white porcelain bowl. I feel Peter gather my hair back and hold it out of the way as my body shudders again to ensure I have nothing left.
When I stand straight once more, he leans against the door, his muscular arms folded across the broad chest. His expression is impassive.
“You’re pregnant,” he says flatly.
I say nothing because the indicator is still sitting on the side of the tub. Shit, I completely forgot. It’s too late to hide it from him now.
I grab my toothbrush to scour the acidic taste from my mouth as he simply leans against the door jamb of my matchbook size bathroom, watching me.
“Were you going to tell me?” he asks, his voice oddly calm.
I turn to him.
“I just found out. I would have told you eventually, but I want you to know: you don’t have to feel obligated in any way. I know you didn’t sign up for an instant family when you decided to watch a cam girl show. It was an accident, and accidents happen sometimes. I’m a big girl and I can take care of it.”
He turns me to face him, placing his hands on my shoulders and staring at me with those ocean blue eyes. He has a little bit of scruff on his face, but the coal black waves of his hair gleam and his muscles look more toned than ever. God, why does he have to be so handsome, even now?
“Whitney, are you thinking of a termination? What the fuck does “taking care of it” mean?”
I go pale and my hand unconsciously crawls to my belly, as if protecting the child within.
“No, of course not,” I say quickly. “I would never do that. I want this baby, but I don’t want you to feel trapped. No one expected this, and I don’t want you to think … I don’t know, like you have to be a dad because of this.”
His expression grows stormy.
“Do you really think that little of me?”
I sense danger.
“I’m not sure, Peter. I mean, this is not what you expected when you watched my first cam show. This isn’t what I expected either, but here we are now. Besides, I know you’re a playboy billionaire and I don’t want to cramp your style.”
He literally shakes me a bit now, my head bobbling on my shoulders.
“Cramp my style? Is that how you describe fatherhood? What the fuck is wrong with you, Whit? Seriously, what?”
I shiver a bit, and my face goes pale.
“I just want to do what’s right, Peter. The pregnancy is unexpected, but I’m prepared to be a single mom. I’ll survive. You yourself said that I’m sassy, independent and resourceful. I’ll use these skills to figure it out!”
He’s so angry now that he lets go of me and stalks out of the bathroom. But then he whirls around, and his face is a mask of frustration and anger.
“Whit, I really don’t get it. How can you think I would be anything but thrilled about this? I am totally in love with you and want you to come home. What the hell?”
I stare at him stunned.
“I’m sorry?”
He rubs his hand over his face, like he’s come to the end of his rope.
“I’m in love with you, didn’t you hear? I want you. I want this baby, and all your bullshit is just that: bullshit. Come back to the penthouse with me. Now.”
My body trembles as I stand there, staring at this handsome man. Are his words for real? But those blue eyes meet mine again, and they’re so compelling.
“Whitney, I said now.”
With that, I fall into his arms and break down. I want to go home. I want to be with him forever. He holds me tight and lets me release all the emotions that have been pent up for the last two weeks.
“Whit, I can’t believe you would think those things about me,” he says while rubbing my shoulders.
I just sob harder.
“I don’t know. The pregnancy was just so unexpected, and I didn’t find out until today, and … I just don’t know,” I sob incoherently.
He presses his lips to my forehead, and then stands back to look into my eyes.
“But Whit, what don’t you know? I love you. I’ve loved you for a while now, and I show it at every turn. Couldn’t you tell, even if I didn’t say the words?”
I look up at him, my eyes teary.
“I guess I was just too insecure. I don’t know. My parents came by and they basically called me a whore after I told them about you.”
That jolts Peter to life.
“They said what?”
Immediately, I try to explain.
“Maeve and Donald are good people. They’re not judgmental, it’s just that I’ve been sending them some of the money you gave me, and they realized it wasn’t coming from my store. They confronted me, and I admitted that we met through that cam girl site. I’m sorry! It was so unexpected and I should have lied. I should have made something up about the way we met, but the words just came out.”
He pulls me close to him fiercely, stroking my hair again.
“You are not a whore. Not even close. Your parents are completely wrong.”
I sniffle a bit against his chest.
“I know, and I’m glad you don’t think so. But don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine. They’ll come around because I’m their only child, and besides, I told them I’d fallen in love with you. That justifies everything.”
He pulls back for a moment, his blue eyes searching mine.
“I’m not here for justifications. But do you, Whitney? Do you love me?”
I laugh through my tears.
“Yes, I do. I love you Peter Coleman, and it’s been eating me up inside for the last week. I wanted to tell you, but then there were my parents, and then this pregnancy, and everything got so mixed up.”
He pulls me to his chest again, and I realize he’s breathing fast. This has been an emotional moment for both of us, and I smile through my tears.
“I love you Peter. I love you more than anything, and I want us to be together.”
This time, he doesn’t answer. He merely seizes my mouth in a passionate kiss, and my heart begins to heal. Warmth floods my body and my hands reach around him to lock around his neck.
“I love you, Whitney Porter,” he whispers fiercely against my lips. “Don’t ever forget it.”
With that, our mouths join again, even as tears of joy slip down my cheeks. I almost lost this man, but in the end, our love was meant to be.
Epilogue
Whitney
Two years later.
I bustle around, preparing for the grand opening of SugarTime Too. It’s a cheesy name but I like it because it’s a play upon the name of my original store, and it’s cute. I like the “too” part especially because it sounds like “two,” and it’s my second store.
After all, when the pandemic finally ended, business at the original SugarTime began to boom. We got a lot of added exposure from the new SugarTime Shake Selections at Shake Place, and suddenly, people were swarming my little shop. I hired both Felipe and Marta full time, and increased their salaries too. Now, Felipe is going to be my manager at SugarTime Too in New Jersey, and we’re looking to hire part-timers to help staff both locations. It’s exciting, and I’m a little nervous. But everything’s going to be fine because I have Peter.
After all, he’s been my rock through all of this. Now that we have our daughter Willow, he’s a doting father, in addition to running his own business and helping me with mine. A better man, I couldn’t ask for.
Plus, now we live together. I gave up my little apartment and settled into his penthouse. We transformed one of the spare bedrooms into a nursery, and little Willow seems to love the animal-themed décor I put up. She’s the light of her father’s life, and he spoils her far too much.
Which leaves the issue of my parents. After my confrontation, Peter wasn’t exactly excited to meet Maeve and Donald. He couldn’t get over the fact that they’d called me a whore, and readily verbalized his objections. But finally, I convinced him to visit them in New Jersey when I was about six months pregnant. My parents were both shocked when I stepped out of the car, and they glimpsed my bulging tummy for the first time. I think my mom almost passed out, in fact. But when they saw Peter standing beside me, huge and stormy, they both put on their best behaviors. The meeting was cordial, if not friendly, and Maeve and Donald came to Willow’s christening soon after she was born.
Now, I believe the ice is cracking a bit more. My parents adore my daughter, and they dote on her the way grandparents should. Because of little Willow, I think we’re going to be okay. Peter sees how they cherish the baby, and recently, he invited them to lunch at the local Shake Place in Jersey City. I think it’s going to be fine. My parents will get a chance to coo over their granddaughter even more, while also making conversation with the man I love.
But now, it’s time for the grand opening of SugarTime Too. Guests file into my small store, including George and Sarah. Sarah has become our designated babysitter and she absolutely adores Willow. In fact, at this very moment, the teen girl has Willow on her lap, bobbling her on her knee as my baby giggles. I wave to them and beam from the makeshift stage.
The ceremony commences and I smile happily, overwhelmed with the good fortune in my life. My newfound confidence keeps the butterflies at bay when I take the microphone for a quick impromptu speech.
“Thank you all for coming out to celebrate with us and support SugarTime Too. There are so many people here that made this happen. Felipe and his family have uprooted to move to this glorious suburb in New Jersey just to run this location. Alvina and Marta keep the original store in New York humming like a well-oiled machine, and of course, I want to thank my parents for supporting my dream early on. Most of all, however, I want to thank my partner in life and partner in crime, Peter Coleman. He believed in me when I was at my lowest and has given me a family and more happiness than I ever thought possible.”
The crowd claps and cheers as Peter and Willow make their way to stand by my side on the stage. I use giant scissors to cut the big blue ribbon, and everyone breaks into cheers again. Then, Peter pulls me in for a kiss before handing me the baby and taking the mike. This is unexpected. I certainly wasn’t expecting my lover to make a speech.
But he smiles, and like magic, the crowd falls quiet in front of the handsome CEO.
“I can’t say enough good things
about this wonderful woman, Whitney Porter. In some way or another, she has touched all our lives but mine more so than any other. She has given me an amazing daughter and completed my life. I don’t ever want to be without her.”
Suddenly, Peter drops to one knee and I gasp. Is this really happening? In public? Sure enough, he’s smiling, and he proffers a diamond ring in one hand.
“Whitney Porter, will you marry me? I love you more than life itself, and you’ve already given me so much to be grateful for. Please make a poor wretch happy.”
The crowd cheers wildly and I burst into tears while nodding.
“Yes, Peter,” I say. “Yes, yes, I will marry you!”
My gorgeous fiancé sweeps me up in his arms and I smile through tears while looking at him and Willow. The baby coos, and it’s a little bit funny because not many people know our secret. But once upon a time, a long time ago, I watched a cam girl perform, and her name was Willow. Seeing that first show gave me inspiration, and it’s led me to my current life with a gorgeous man, a beautiful daughter, and a thriving business. Things really came full circle, didn’t they? Because if I could meet the original Willow today, I would tell her that it’s not just what you bring to the camera; it’s also about what the camera can bring to you.
THE END
Five Years Later
Curious about Whitney and Peter five years from now? Then download the scene here (newsletter subscription required) or read the scene on my website right here (no subscription required). Hint: Whitney’s heavily pregnant with their fifth child but that doesn’t stop Peter savoring his wife.
More from S.E. Law
I fell hard for my fiancé’s gorgeous father. Taboo? Absolutely. But our chemistry is off the charts in My Fiancé’s Dad, available here.
Who falls in love with her friend’s dad and stepdad? Read Marni’s story in Her Honey Pot, available here.