The Office Rival: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Kat T. Masen

  Ten minutes later, she’s done.

  “You wanna see? Geez, I think the razor went dull.”

  I laugh. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “Honestly, the things I do for you.”

  I wake up the next day, incredibly happy despite the lack of sleep. With a shaved kitty and a refreshing cup of tea, life has become a bed of sweet roses. Not to mention, I get another text from Haden which makes me smile.

  Haden: I still mean what I said.

  I don’t respond just yet, and when I receive a bouquet of flowers ten minutes later, my day gets even better. It’s a bunch of rainbow-colored roses with a card attached that says, “From your Jerk.”

  I can’t help but smile until I notice Eloise walking toward my cubicle. Perfectly dressed in a pristine white, turtleneck dress, she appears somewhat cheerful as she greets me hello and bends down to kiss me like we’re the best of friends.

  My conscience is on the run like a fugitive, leaving me to deal with that godawful emotion called guilt.

  “Hi, Presley, are you free for lunch?”

  “Uh… I’m kinda busy,” I lie.

  “It’s really important. Hey, nice roses.”

  She leans in to sniff them, and I thank God the card is still in my hands.

  Reluctantly, I join her for lunch at another one of her green diet-friendly restaurants. She sits across from me sipping her lawn in a glass, flashing her bright white teeth.

  “So, first, I know we haven’t had a chance to catch up, but I heard everything went well with your trip to visit your parents.”

  “Yes, it did, thank you.”

  “I’ve been so preoccupied with the wedding, so I haven’t been able to give you this.” She slides an envelope in front of me, and I see the fancy cursive writing on the front. Opening it slowly, I see that it’s their wedding invitation.

  “The date on there is next week,” I say, trying to control my nervous stutter.

  “Yes, we decided to move it closer. It’s only very close family and friends at my parents’ house, so changing the date wasn’t really an issue.”

  “I’m not sure what to say. I feel like it would be uncomfortable for me to be there.”

  “But you’re family. We’d really love to have you there.” She smiles.

  My mind is reeling. Did he know this information last night? Surely, he had to. Then why did he go on and on about it just being us. Or is my brain reading way too much into this?

  “How’re things going with the pregnancy?”

  “Fine. Five weeks to go,” I respond with my best poker face.

  “I’m kind of excited to say this, but since we’re like family, and I feel like I can really open up to you… Haden and I are trying to have a family.”

  “You’re trying for a family?” I stare at her in disbelief.

  “Yes. We spoke about it briefly, but I thought, why not go off the pill now? Anyway, before he left for L.A., we had quite a night.” She leans in. “We did it three times that night. I really think we made a baby.”

  The sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces echoes throughout the room, or at least that’s how it feels. I feel a stabbing pain, its persistent jabs creating deep, unfounded wounds. I’m infuriated with him, with her, at myself for believing that this fucked-up story would become a fairy tale.

  “It will be perfect. Our babies can grow up together. I told Haden this morning that I had a gut feeling about it.”

  “What did he say?” I can barely speak.

  “He seemed pretty tired, but he said that if I’m pregnant, then we probably should get a bigger place for both of the babies.”

  “Both babies?” This time I don’t hold back my animosity.

  “He didn’t tell you?” Her face falls. “I was really hoping he did. He wants to file for joint custody. A week on, a week off type of arrangement.”

  Under the table, my hands sweat profusely as my blood begins to boil. “When did he tell you this?”

  “We’ve been speaking about it for a while, but late last night we talked about it again. He’s got the papers drawn up.” She pulls an envelope out of her bag.

  I can barely see. I’m fueled by anger, and every shade of red is blinding me. My stomach is twisted into heavy knots, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. “I need to go.”

  Dizzy, I stand and leave her behind as she calls after me.

  Somehow, I make my way back to work, confused and utterly disappointed. At my desk, I throw the flowers into the trash and grab my scissors, angrily cutting every stem to pieces. I take a picture of it and send it to him.

  Me: YOU JERK

  My hands are shaking, and I see Vicky standing over me, mouthing something. I try to hear her, but the warm gush of liquid running down my legs confuses me.

  “Holy fuck, Pres! Your water just broke,” Vicky screams.

  I look down and then back up at her in a blind panic, only to hear her yell to the office, “It’s showtime, baby.”

  Twenty

  I’m staring at this face.

  It’s soft and wrinkly and everything is so small.

  Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes.

  It’s my baby.

  My life does a complete one-eighty in just twenty-four short hours.

  It all happens so fast from the moment my water breaks.

  In a state of denial, I want to go home, but Vicky shoves me into a taxi with her, and we head straight to the hospital. I am not experiencing any pain physically, but emotionally I am angry, hurt, and humiliated by what the Jerk did. The delusional fog I am in, which I blame on the hormones, has come to a screeching halt, and there is no time to even think about that as I lay in the hospital bed, tied up to several of drips and monitors.

  “I’ve tried to call Haden,” Vicky tells me.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you’re having this baby, and he needs to be here.” She shakes her head at my question, gently patting my forehead with a cold washcloth.

  “I’m not having this baby. I’m only thirty-five weeks along. It’s not going anywhere.”

  Denial only gets you so far. No matter how much I try to talk myself out of it, the contractions are a motherfucking giant slap of reality. The pain ricochets across my back, then moves toward the front. Gritting my teeth in this unbearable state, I’m given a jug of ice cubes to suck on for the next lot of contractions. I want to throw the jug at the nurse, but physical abuse won’t help me, and I shouldn’t be mean to the person who has the drugs.

  “It keeps going to voicemail,” Vicky says in a worried tone.

  “Well, fucking good! He doesn’t deserve to be here, anyway,” I yell mid-contraction.

  The second the contraction winds down, I start to cry, and I mean ugly-sob cry. Even with Vicky by my side, I feel so alone and terrified. She holds onto me for what feels like forever until I manage to calm myself down.

  Mom and Dad are honeymooning in Fiji—they only just arrived there yesterday. Gemma and Melissa are staying at some B&B, and their phones have no coverage. To add to everything else, the crib hasn’t arrived yet, and I haven’t washed all the clothes like you’re supposed to, plus my hospital bag is sitting beside my bed at home.

  This was not my plan.

  This is so unplanned it makes me want to cry even more.

  “Shhh.” Vicky strokes my hair at the same time Kate rushes into the room with Lex right behind her.

  “Oh my God, what the hell happened? Lex and I were in a taxi when I got your text. I had the taxi driver rush us right over here.” Panicked and out of breath, she is by my side, riddled with worry.

  Still in an emotional state and unable to communicate effectively, I let Vicky do all the talking. She starts with my lunch with Eloise, how the Jerk screwed me over, and the taxi ride over here. Both of them offer their opinions on Eloise, but I immediately tune out, not wanting to deal with that.

  “Did the Jerk really knock Eloise up, too?” Kate whi
spers to Vicky.

  Vicky nods and proceeds to tell her the rest of the story. Lex walks over to the end of the bed and lifts the chart off the railing to read it.

  Curious, I continue to watch him. “Can you read charts?”

  “He used to be a doctor,” Kate adds.

  “Intern,” he corrects her.

  “What does it say? Is something wrong with my baby?”

  He continues to read, then puts it down. “Well, your water broke, but you knew that. The baby’s heart rate is high, and it appears to be distressed. Basically, if it continues, they will need to do a C-section.”

  “But… but I can’t be cut open.” I panic. Not once have I thought this was a possibility. “I don’t handle blood very well or knives and scalpels. And what about if they can’t close me up? What happens if my organs fail?”

  Lex moves over to Kate’s side, and with a calm demeanor, tries to ease my worries. “You’ll have well-trained surgeons taking care of you. Women bounce back without too much trouble. Aside from no driving for a while, you’ll just need to take it slow. No heavy lifting or strenuous exercise. But let’s see what your doctor says first. In the meantime, is there anything I can get you from the nurses’ station?”

  I shake my head and thank him.

  “I’ll be right outside if you want me, just need to make a few work calls.”

  He goes off into the hallway, and I rest my head back and close my eyes. The second he is out of sight Vicky is quick to comment. “Shit, Kate, why didn’t you tell me he was gorgeous?”

  “Because he’s married and totally off the market.”

  “Does he have any brothers? Or even cousins? Hell, what about his dad? I’m quite open.” Vicky winks.

  Even in my despair, I laugh out loud at her comment. “You’re very open.”

  “Like a twenty-four-hour convenience store,” Kate roars.

  “Hey!” Vicky hollers. “That’s not nice… but so true.”

  Kate grabs the chair behind her and pulls it in, still holding onto my hand. “I hope you don’t mind that Lex is here. It was hard enough getting a taxi at this hour without having to drop him off first, plus he was worried about you. He called Charlie straight away, and she sends her best wishes and a message for you… ask for the drugs.”

  I manage to laugh out loud again, not plagued with another contraction yet. They appear to be inconsistent, which is probably a good thing. The doctor still hasn’t turned up, but according to the last nurse who came in, he will be here shortly. It’s a waiting game, and uncertainty is something that makes me extremely anxious. I haven’t even taken the time to research Caesareans, believing I would have a normal vaginal birth. My body temperature begins to rise again, so I shove some ice cubes in my mouth, biting hard to stop panic-ridden Presley from blacking out.

  Vicky checks her phone again before placing it back in her purse, turning her attention back to me. “I get why you’re pissed off at him after what Eloise told you. But what did he say or do the night before for you to get so worked up, Pres?”

  “Nothing,” I mumble. “It’s not even worth talking about. Just distract me. Tell me what happened with Patrick.”

  Once Vicky gets started on Patrick, it’s like listening to a soap opera. Apparently, he separated from his wife because she busted him cheating with some secretary at his firm. Although they aren’t divorced yet, he’s eager to move on with his single life, and Vicky’s name is at the top of his list.

  “You’ll be proud of me… I didn’t touch him whatsoever.”

  “Good, because I’d hate for you to be here one day, pushing out a baby that belongs to a jerk!” I scream suddenly, riding out another contraction that catches me by surprise.

  I squeeze both Kate’s and Vicky’s hands, and I only let go when the pain subsides. They let go as soon as I relax again and shake their hands to stop the numbing. I hadn’t realized how tight I was squeezing until I saw their pale white hands.

  Exhausted from the tides of pain, I manage to close my eyes for what feels like only a brief moment. Time is lost on me, and when Lex walks back into the room with the doctor, I pray for pain relievers and a positive solution.

  “Miss Malone, you’ve gone into early labor, and the baby is distressed. We need to operate shortly,” the doctor informs me.

  “Wait, operate? You can’t cut me open! That’s why I have a vagina,” I yell, out of breath as I choke, panicking.

  The midwife strolls in and takes Vicky’s spot, patting my forehead with a cloth. She talks to me, but all I hear is blah, blah, blah. I’m certain I’m going to pass out from the sheer terror. I begin to cry, wanting my mom or sister, someone familiar to comfort me and not this stranger. With Vicky and Kate sent to the waiting area, the pain mixed with my desperate pleas drown out an army of nurses who come into the room and unlock the wheels to my bed.

  “We’re going to wheel you to the operating room now.”

  The doors open, and my girls are at my side with Lex behind them. The sobbing starts again, and I desperately hold onto their arms, not wanting to let go.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Pres,” Vicky whispers. “The Jerk hasn’t picked up his phone, but I’ll keep trying.”

  “I’m scared,” I cry through small, strained sobs.

  “I know, sweetie, but I promise you’ll be okay.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’re my best friend, and you have to be.” She kisses my forehead with tears falling down her cheeks. Kate looks equally distraught but is attempting to smile, reassuring me everything’s going to be okay. Lex stands beside Kate and offers his kind words.

  “It’ll be over before you know it, and you’ll be holding that beautiful baby of yours in your arms.” He smiles, looking somewhat nostalgic.

  “Great, someone just got baby fever again,” Kate says as she rolls her eyes at him.

  I manage to smile through my tears before their faces disappear down the hall.

  There’s something to be said for being a patient in an operating room. It’s the most surreal out-of-body experience there is. The sterile walls and bright lights somehow create a calm before the storm. I’ve zoned out, only barely hearing the distant voices. Things are thrown over me and poke and prod me. When a contraction rocks me to the core, they warn me they are giving me an epidural, and the pain is suddenly washed away.

  I want to smile.

  I want to laugh and run through the fields, dancing and carefree.

  What a fucking relief.

  In a sea of calm, I stare into the light, blissfully dazed until the doors burst open, and the Jerk rushes in. The guards behind the surgeons are trying to catch him, and when the nurse figures out who he is, they give him a gown and mask and make him sanitize his hands. He is by my side so fast with bloodshot eyes surrounded by a thick black bruise. He looks a complete wreck.

  The stale stench of alcohol lingers on his breath as he sits closer to me. Jesus, he is drunk.

  “Really? This is how you welcome our child into the world? Drunk and covered in dried blood?” I whisper.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We’ve got time. In case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “I don’t want to get into it now.”

  “Why? Because Eloise is pregnant, too?” I spit back, accusing him in front of the entire medical team.

  The anesthesiologist tries not to smile, but it’s obvious behind her mask. It doesn’t stop me from asking the questions the Jerk doesn’t want to answer.

  “She’s not pregnant, okay? I don’t know why she told you all that,” he answers, sounding short-tempered. “We have a baby to bring into this world, so enough questions, Malone.”

  “Well, you’re still a jerk, and your roses suck,” I mutter.

  He doesn’t respond, focusing on what is happening behind the makeshift wall between my head and my stomach. At this moment, I notice his bloody shirt and split lip for the first time. He
grabs my hand and entwines his fingers with mine. It’s not the right moment to pull my hand away from his and start another argument. So, I wait and stare at the ceiling, avoiding his bruised and battered face and my bruised and battered ego.

  There’s chatter, chaos, and anticipation around me. Time becomes fuzzy, and my eyes continue to watch the lights until the moment my heart jumps out my chest, singing a song of ecstasy. The moment the sound of my baby’s wail breaks the silence, and officially, we welcome a son into the world.

  There is joy throughout the room, and I stretch my neck to see the wrinkly little baby lifted into the air, covered in goo. I am besotted and smiling through my tears at the beautiful sight. Moving my head to the left, I watch as they take him away to clean him up, rubbing him vigorously with a towel. Then the nurse wraps him up and calls Haden over. She hands him our son, and with a slow and careful pace, he walks over to me with a gentle smile and brings the baby closer, so I can study him properly.

  I am in awe.

  He is the epitome of beauty, and everything else in my life becomes insignificant because this little baby has completely stolen my heart.

  “Say hello to Mommy,” Haden whispers, bringing the baby close to my face. I stare at him in astonishment, and I am desperate to touch him. I rub my nose along his cheek and smell his soft skin.

  He has broken me but in a good way.

  My ill feelings toward Haden wash away at this very moment because of my gratitude.

  If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be experiencing a love so great. A love that has consumed me whole.

  I love him more than life itself.

  The baby, that is.

  And maybe, somewhere very deep inside, the Jerk as well.

  Twenty-One

  I yearn for peace, silence, and a moment to take it all in. I yearn for life to stop, even if just for a minute, so I can stare at my son’s face and absorb the miracle that is this beautiful baby boy.

  From the moment they wheeled me out of recovery and into my room, an endless stream of visitors armed with flowers, balloons, and blue, stuffed toys arrive. It is like a nonstop circus. If it weren’t for the adrenaline running through my veins, the circus would have gone on around a sleeping Presley.