The Trouble With Him: A Secret Pregnancy Romance (The Forbidden Love Series Book 3)

by Kat T. Masen

  “Sure.”

  He kisses Lane goodbye on the cheek as I purposely glance at the wall. Then, we slowly walk down the corridor in silence until the brisk air meets us. Although it’s spring now, which means we would usually be privy to the sun shining and warm air, today is unusually cold, quite like my mood.

  “Sit.” He motions at an empty bench. “How have you been?”

  “Pregnant,” I blurt out, instantly regretting my outburst. I should’ve warned him gently. After all, this will change his life forever.

  Austin rubs his freshly shaven jaw, pausing momentarily to shift his gaze onto me.

  “I guess congratulations are in order?”

  “It’s yours.”

  The second it leaves my mouth, his smile wavers, and slowly, his eyes widen in disbelief. Even the color of his skin pales, almost as if he’s seen a ghost.

  “Mine? Are you sure?” he stammers, shaking his head unknowingly. “We used protection. We weren’t that stupid.”

  I shrug, unsure how to explain how it happened. Austin is the doctor here. Surely, he must know more than me. Yet he’s looking at me to answer him.

  “We did, but maybe there was a hole in the condom, or you were drunk, and it wasn’t placed right. I don’t know how to answer that, Austin.”

  He stands up, pacing the area in front of me. “How do you know it’s mine?”

  Folding my arms beneath my chest, I raise my brow with an icy stare.

  “Because I’m four months along,” I snap in frustration from his assumption. “And you have been the only man I’ve slept with in six whole months.”

  “So, you’ve only had sex with me in the last six months?”

  “Yes,” I concur, my annoyance quickly morphing to anger. My nostrils flare on their own accord as my pulse begins to race. “You know what, Austin? I came here to tell you the truth, and understandably you’re upset just as I was when I found out. But right now, I don’t appreciate being called a whore.”

  “I’m not calling you a whore, Ava,” he proclaims, his tone low. “You were single and had every right to do what you wanted. But, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrogated and made you feel that way. This is a lot to take in. I’m just about to start my second year in residency, we’re not together, and I’m with someone.”

  “Lane?”

  “Yes, Lane.”

  “She’s nice, real cute.”

  “She doesn’t deserve this,” he tells me.

  The bouncing emotions exhaust me, and when I’m tired, my patience wears thin. It sounds like he cares more about her feelings than mine, and I’m the one carrying his baby!

  “You’re right, she doesn’t deserve this, but you know who has it even harder? Me. She doesn’t have to be pregnant for another five months then give birth. She doesn’t have to be a single mother and hey, let’s not forget about the biggest issue here,” I fume, knowing my face has turned bright red from my unflattering temper. “She doesn’t have to tell her family, especially her sister that she’s knocked up by her ex-fiancé, who she slept with on New Year’s Eve.”

  Austin remains silent, burying his face in his hands. Then, after minutes of no communication between us, he finally lifts his head. “How is this going to work?”

  “Look, like you said, you’re almost a second-year resident. I don’t need your help, Austin. I can do this on my own.”

  “You don’t need my help?” he exasperates, drawing back with an unrelenting glare. “So, what? I’m supposed to have a kid and never see it?”

  “See it, don’t see it. All I’m saying is that I can do this on my own.”

  “And all I’m hearing is that you don’t want me around.”

  Austin turns his gaze toward the building, refusing to look at me. “I need to go back.”

  And just like that, he walks away. Out of sight, but definitely not out of mind.

  This turned out to be a disaster. But what did he expect me to say or do? Beg him to be a father to a child he never asked for? Demand he supports me, or worst yet—be in a relationship with me? No matter what I say, it all sounds wrong.

  Right now, I’m the woman who has ruined his life.

  And nothing will change that.

  I take the long route home, walking in a daze up Madison Avenue. People walk past, going about their business as usual. There’s a group of young girls in front of me, laughing while carrying designer shopping bags. I envy the life I once had before my insecurities ate away at me, which ultimately led to making wrong decisions. But then, I remember what Mom said, how I’d been fortunate in life. I expected bumps, but this is a next-level dark hole ditch with no chance of climbing out.

  Before I know it, I turn right and head in a different direction until I find myself in Eric’s office. Without a greeting or a single word, I take a seat and just stare at his desk. Eric is a minimalist, and he can’t get enough when it comes to diaries and planners. He refuses to get with the times and go electronic, but I don't care what he does as long as he gets the job done.

  “You look like rat shit.” He cringes, eyeing my hair to then scan my face.

  “Thanks, I don’t know what rat shit looks like, but it can’t be pleasant.”

  “Ava, what’s wrong? You’re scaring a very fragile Eric. During my Pilates class this morning, I split my pants, and it was laundry day. The hot blond behind me caught a glimpse of my no branded underwear.”

  “Well, there’s no easy way to say it, so here’s the trigger warning.” I take a deep breath as Eric bites his lip. “I’m going to tell you something, and you’ll need to sit down. In the risk of aging you a few years, which we know you’ve worked hard to stay wrinkle-free, I suggest you serve yourself a wine or something stiff to process all I’m about to tell you.”

  “It’s eleven in the morning, and the only drink I have in here is some fairy cocktail stuff someone assumed I’d love because it’s pink.”

  “I suggest you start pouring.”

  Eric walks to his shelf and removes the bottle to pour a glass. He sniffs the liquor, with a slight dry heave following.

  “Okay, I’m ready, and I’m sitting. Shock me.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I tell him, then rush, “Austin is the father. We slept together on New Year’s Eve after I found Olivier in bed with another man. Only Andy and Adriana know. But I just told Austin, who frankly, didn’t take the news well. I’m going to answer the list of questions circulating inside your brain right now. We used protection. We were both drunk. From what I remember, it was really good, and yes, he’s well-hung. The end. Should you have that drink now?”

  Eric takes a long drink, not stopping until the champagne flute is empty. When he pulls it away, he lets out a raspy groan and begins to cough.

  “Ava, honey, you’ve just aged me to my golden years.” He fans his face, then pours himself another glass. Without a second thought, he drinks it straight. “You’re pregnant to Austin? This is scandalous, and I’m talking worse than all the stuff Lex and Charlie went through.”

  I nod in silence. How can I argue that? This is the beginning of what will be a media scandal, more so than my relationship with Olivier. To everyone's knowledge, we broke up. There was some talk about it, but for the most part, people were sad to see the split because their social media feeds weren’t as aesthetically pleasing without the two of us together.

  “Eric…” I trail off, twisting my hands together. “I’m terrified to tell Millie.”

  “Amelia? What about Daddy Dearest?”

  “My father will be angry,” I admit, trying not to have a panic attack for the hundredth time today. “Him, I can handle. I’m just worried Millie will—”

  “What?”

  “Disown me. Is that even a thing with sisterhood?”

  Eric releases a sigh. “Amelia would never do that. She loves you, and besides, she’s married to a man she loves. It’s not like she can get jealous. So, when are you telling them?”

  “I’m thinking about
flying out tomorrow. I can’t hide this for much longer.”

  “Oh, to be a fly on the wall,” Eric gasps. “Wait, what about Lochie?”

  I purse my lips, glancing out the window. “Nothing, I stood him up. I can’t deal with anything else, Eric.”

  “Could’ve been something great.”

  “Yeah, well, now I’m pregnant to another man. The Universe sure has a way of fucking up my life for me.”

  “Ava, sweetie, you need to breathe, and we’ll get through this.” Eric places his hand on mine, his breath close enough that I can smell the potent pink whatever the hell it is. “I’m here, and so is Tristan. You’ve got our support always, no matter what happens from here.

  I have no idea what will happen.

  But I know my sister better than anyone else. My gut is telling me the worst is yet to come.

  I can’t afford to lose her, but deep down inside—I know it is inevitable.

  Nine

  Ava

  After my pity stop at Eric’s office, I change my mind and head back to work instead of wallowing at home.

  Inside the sanctity of my own office, workaholic Ava comes back to life. To say I miss her would be an understatement. In the space of six hours, I schedule several meetings and even approve the final touches on our fall loungewear line. Ideas are flowing, so I make sure to write them down, ready to explore when I have more time.

  Powering through emails, I even respond to Dad, who sent me an article he read on manufacturing locally and incentives for business owners. It was an interesting read. Given my company has grown over the last twelve months, it makes sense to source a factory space and maybe even a shopfront. Aunt Adriana had been pushing me for years, but it didn’t make sense financially to establish a brick-and-mortar business when most people preferred online shopping.

  When night falls, I drag myself home but make a quick stop at McDonald’s for a cheeseburger and strawberry shake. It had been on my mind all day long, and I’ve never been one to crave cheap junk food, unable to recall the last time I ate such a thing. Yet the greasy burger and sugary drink are oddly satisfying.

  It’s barely eight when I let out a yawn. My limbs feel heavy as I lazily make my way to the closet to grab a tank and bed shorts, ready to hit the shower and sleep. Today felt like it dragged on forever, especially after this morning with Austin. I haven’t heard from him, nor do I want to make contact. I figure, being a guy, he needs to let off steam and me pushing this pregnancy in his face won’t do any good.

  Besides, there’s another pressing situation fighting for attention—my family.

  My flight for LA leaves at midday tomorrow. Then, suddenly, I remember I forgot to tell Mom. Quickly, I pull out my phone to text Mom, praying my impromptu trip won’t alarm her.

  Me: Hey, Mom, just letting you know I’m flying over tomorrow. I should be there late afternoon. Sorry for the late notice, last-minute trip.

  Mom: You’ve made your Mama happy. Any reason for the trip?

  Me: Just need to sort some things out.

  Mom: Love you, Ava. Can’t wait to see you xx

  My stomach flips, but I blame the cheeseburger and do not succumb to the nerves of visiting my family.

  I grab my things to head to the bathroom. When I strip off my clothes, my glance shifts toward the mirror, turning sideways to examine my body.

  The swell has become more evident over the last week, but it feels like it popped overnight. Slowly, I glide my hands across to try to connect with this unborn child inside of me.

  Motherhood.

  I have no idea how to be a mother despite being raised by the most perfect woman ever to exist. Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Edwards set the bar so high, setting gold standards. I don’t think my sisters or I can ever compare.

  When it came to raising us, we were never without anything. Mom cooked delicious dinners, making all of us eat together every night at the same time. She would make each one of us talk about our day, encouraging us to be communicative. Often, it resulted in dramatic arguments, but what did my parents expect with four girls? When Millie left for college, it eased, making it obvious that she caused most of it.

  Then, during my sporting phase, Mom drove me around to practice. It wasn’t just me, but my sisters too. Each one of us played different sports which made it all the more time-consuming.

  Although Mom worked too, it never felt like we missed out. She tried to work when we were at school or asleep, and when she had deadlines, Dad took over.

  How she juggled it all with a husband who ran an empire is beyond me. To add to that, Mom didn’t believe in nannies or full-time maids. We did have a house cleaner and gardener—an old married couple whom Mom met through work, but they only came once a week.

  All in all, Mom ran a tight ship and still managed to look unbelievably beautiful.

  As for me, I have a cleaner who comes twice a week, and I still can barely take care of myself. At what point will I be able to take care of a baby? I’m not sure how I feel about nannies, but something about another woman raising my child doesn’t sit well with me.

  Stepping into the shower, I’m desperate to slow down my thoughts. The hot water and steam are so relaxing I wish I could stay here forever. I use all the fancy body washes, basking in the smell of vanilla and lavender.

  When my skin begins to wrinkle, I climb out only to hear the door buzzer ring. I’m not expecting anyone, so I quickly throw on my tank and shorts, my skin still damp, then run to the door.

  I press my finger on the intercom.

  “Miss Edwards, I have an Austin Carter here to see you.”

  Oh, shit.

  “Send him up.”

  The second I let go of the button, I bolt to the kitchen basin to throw up. My chest heaves until I control myself and splash cold water on my face. Then, taking a deep breath, I head to the door and open it to Austin standing on the other side. He’s leaning against the door frame, looking handsome in just a pair of jeans and a white tee. His hair is a wild mess, but I narrow it down to the wind picking up until I see him run his finger through his hair in a nervous panic.

  “Come in,” I tell him.

  He enters the apartment as I close the door. I motion for him to take a seat on the sofa as I purposely sit on the other end to distance myself. Upon sitting down, my gaze shifts toward my breasts. Shit, I forgot to wear a bra. Swiftly, I grab a cushion and cover my chest though chances are he already saw.

  “I want to apologize for my reaction earlier. It was uncalled for.”

  “It was perfectly called for, Austin. I spring this on you, and your whole world changed,” I admit, then continue, “You woke up this morning intending to go to work, and I pretty much changed your entire life all in one conversation.”

  Austin scratches his cheek, looking irritable. “It wasn’t how I was raised to treat a woman, especially one who’s carrying my baby.”

  “Screw that,” I respond, raising my voice. “You’re human. Your emotions are valid. I have no idea how to raise a child for the rest of my life. I’m terrified of failing. When you have the perfect parents who never once made me feel any less loved than I needed to feel, it puts a whole lot of pressure to get this parenting thing right.”

  “I was caught off guard, that I’ll admit.” He takes a deep breath, though his tone is much calmer than mine. “Ava, how are we going to make this work? We aren’t together.”

  I shrug. “It would be presumptuous of me to give you an answer now. I don’t know what it’s going to be like when the baby arrives. It will be hard work. I’m not a kid person. I am not Millie.”

  The moment I say her name, his eyes snap up, almost looking tortured by the sound of it.

  “God, Ava.” Austin sighs heavily. “You know Millie is going to be hurt?”

  “Yes, but I can’t lie to her,” I mumble, unable to look at him while consumed by my guilt. “Even if I did lie, that’s not fair to the baby. You’re the father, and why should our kid feel ashamed?”
>
  Twisting my hands, I wish my hormones would take a god damn seat because my eyes begin to well up. I’m not a crier, spared for the few moments in my life which called for it. But lately, the smallest things will set me off.

  “When do you tell them? I can be there with you,” Austin offers.

  I’m grateful Austin is stepping up when truthfully, I had my doubts earlier today. But this family affair needs to be a solo event. We need to air our grievances right there and then, knowing it will be unpleasant and confronting. I can almost hear Dad falling radio silent. His hopes and dreams for me shattered in a heartbeat.

  My mother will be torn between comforting me, then trying to settle an upset Millie. Addy and Alexa will sit there in silence, shocked but keeping their opinions to themselves. Granted, Alexa will probably record it and upload it to some site with a hashtag ‘when your sister screwed with her older sister's fiancé,’ combined with some dramatic music hoping for likes or shares.

  And then there’s Will and Millie. I know Will enough that his jealous streak will get the better of him. He’ll be eerily quiet, but you’ll see the veins protruding and hands clenched into tight fists if you look close enough.

  Millie will vocalize her opinion of me without a single care in the world.

  She’ll call me names, everyone will be stunned, and it goes without saying she will storm out without an apology.

  “I need to do this alone, Austin. If Millie weren’t in this equation, then I’d want you there. Will might be there, too, making it all the harder. I don’t want any extra drama.”

  Austin rests his elbows on his knees, staring blankly in front of him.

  “The offer is there, Ava. You don’t need to do any of this alone. We can make this work, this co-parenting thing,” he says, continuing to ramble. “I mean, I was saving to buy a place closer to the hospital, but I can look for one now. It might not be close but two bedrooms—one for me, and then the baby’s room. I’ll need a crib, but maybe my mom can help with all that.”