Every word he spoke resonated deep within me. I knew what he meant, utterly and completely, because it was exactly how I felt. And I didn’t even know about the legend in his village at the time.
“Please, mia bella, say you’ll make this permanent and be my wife?”Antonio finished.
He pulled out a massive ring from his pocket and held it out to me. The thing almost blinded me as the light caught the diamond and made it sparkle.
But I didn’t need a diamond. He could have asked me empty handed and my answer would have been the same. Our souls were two halves of the one whole. Of course we had to be together.
“Yes, I would love to,” I said as I jumped into his embrace.
He swung me around before slipping the ring on my finger. It was a perfect fit, just like us.
I made a vow to myself that I would forget every single Valentine’s Day before I met Antonio. They didn’t count. It was a day for lovers and there was nobody I loved more than him.
I’d remember the day for this moment and know it as the day my soul found completeness. Valentine’s Day wasn’t going to suck anymore.
HEARTFELT
Chapter 1
There were certain moments in your life that you dreaded. Losing your loved ones, spending Christmas alone, being stood up on a date, and watching a pregnancy test as the timer counted down.
The latter was the nightmare I was currently experiencing. I had four and a half minutes left as I waited for the little stick to show one or two blue lines. One meant no baby, two meant I was going to be a mama.
I really didn’t want to be a mother. I was only twenty-five, I didn’t know how to look after myself let alone an infant. I was probably the most irresponsible person on the planet. I mean, clearly, considering I was sitting in my bedroom alone on a Sunday morning watching a pregnancy test develop. I obviously wasn’t the responsible type.
I hoped I was just being paranoid. I didn’t know what it felt like to be pregnant, the whole thing could just be in my mind. Right? If it wasn’t for my damn period being two weeks late, I might have been able to fool myself into believing everything was alright. That’s how I got through the previous week – denial. By the second week, it is panic stations.
I would have to keep the baby if there were two lines on the test. I couldn’t get rid of it like it was a mistake. It was an accident, yes, but it wasn’t the little tyke’s fault the universe chose me to be its parent.
There was always adoption, I guessed. But I had never been a quitter. Irresponsible, reckless, idiotic, but not a quitter. I couldn’t bear the thought of my offspring being out in the world without me.
Oh God, I was already getting attached to it. I couldn’t be pregnant, I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t in my life plan. I used to be so sensible. If it wasn’t for the damn car accident that almost took my life, I would still have been on track with my plans. It had thrown my life into disarray and told me to live to the fullest. I had been carefree and footloose ever since.
Yeah, well, good one Caroline, pregnancy tests happened when you swayed from the life plan. I guessed it was probably too late to get back on track. Unless there was only one line in four minutes time.
I hated surprises, I always had for as long as I could remember. Bad things happened when you least expected them. Surprises were nothing more than horrible things in disguise.
My own mom was going to freak if I had to tell her she was going to be a grandmother. We had a shaky relationship to begin with, that kind of news might break our family bond all together.
Not that she would be much help anyway. I guessed I could do the exact opposite of how she raised me, that might work when raising my child. I wouldn’t take it to bars when it was a toddler, I wouldn’t turn up at parent-teacher day drunk, and I definitely wouldn’t sleep with its boyfriend on its sixteenth birthday.
I definitely needed that test to be negative. Periods were late all the time, right? I was sure I wasn’t the only woman to freak and then find out it was a false alarm. It was just the universe’s way of telling me to be more careful. Right? God, I hoped so.
My life plan said to have a child at twenty-eight and a half. I would have been married for two years to a wonderful, doting husband. My career would actually exist, and money wouldn’t be a problem. When my husband and I waited for the pregnancy test together, we would be eagerly hoping for a positive. Then we would jump for joy and celebrate.
I wasn’t supposed to be sitting in my tiny bedroom by myself and dreading seeing two lines. I was supposed to be living the fairy tale ending. This was more like the nightmare someone had in a movie before they woke up screaming.
But a baby, surely that couldn’t be a nightmare? They had cute little chubby cheeks, big bug-like eyes, and they smelt like talcum powder.
And they cried, and teethed, and pooped. Babies were expensive. I wouldn’t be able to keep working full-time, but then how was I going to pay the bills? I didn’t have any family besides my mother and there was no way I was leaving an innocent child with her. I wouldn’t hate my offspring enough for that.
The last five seconds started counting down on the timer, each second giving a bleep of its own. It was truth time. My life was about to completely change, or it would be an incredible relief.
Four Seconds.
What was I even supposed to do if there were two lines? Did I have to go to the doctor or something? Did I have to change what I eat? I’d heard somewhere a pregnant woman shouldn’t eat fish. Why the hell not?
Three seconds.
I wasn’t pregnant, there was no way I was carrying a child. I was always so careful with contraception. Surely that kind of sensibility should pay off? The box said birth control, surely they wouldn’t lie?
Two seconds.
Stretch marks and saggy boobs, not to mention swollen ankles and heartburn. That’s what a baby did to your body, not that inexplicable glow you always heard about. I was smarter than the propaganda to get females to have babies.
One second.
My period was going to come. It would probably arrive tomorrow and I would laugh about this. Or maybe I would cry about it, that was a likely response with all the period hormones and everything. It was fine, the test was totally going to be negative. I was worrying for nothing.
Ding.
Time was up. I reached for the little stick that would decide my fate. I closed my eyes as I held it, terrified of opening them again. One line, no baby. Two lines, mamahood.
I couldn’t procrastinate any further, I had to do it. I opened my eyes and took a peek. I had to blink a few times to make sure I was seeing right.
There, on the white stick, were two lines. I was pregnant and nothing would ever be the same again. That decided, now I only had one huge problem – who the hell was the father?
Chapter 2
“Hey, there you are.” The male voice came from behind and I immediately stiffened. Perhaps I could pretend I didn’t hear? Would ducking into the storeroom be too obvious?
Probably.
I turned around slowly, trying to plaster a smile onto my face. I couldn’t let him know anything was wrong. Just because I found out less than twenty-four hours ago that I was pregnant, it didn’t mean I could let people know. And that was especially true for Brady Ronaldo.
“Hey, Brady. What’s up?” I sounded weird, right? How did I talk normally again? I was clutching the shirts I had been folding too tightly. I released them, trying to act casual. I was terrible at this.
He skirted around the display in the clothing store and took me in a tight hug. I hung there limply, hoping he didn’t notice. “You were M.I.A. all weekend, I tried calling like a dozen times.”
“I was… busy… working… you know how it is. The life of a retail assistant, it never stops.”
He grinned that beautiful white teeth flashing smile that always made me swoon. I was such a victim to his crime of taking my breath away.
“Working sucks,” he declared. I
couldn’t disagree. I was supposed to be working in fashion, not selling mid-priced sensible clothing for minimum wage. It didn’t count, I checked. “So come play with me tonight. The band has a gig at The Old Bank. It’s going to be awesome and it will be awesomer if you’re there too.”
“I’ve got… inventory tonight, sorry.” That sounded fake, even to my own ears. Who counts stock on a Monday night?
“Oh, come on, I need my sweet Caroline there. It won’t be the same without you.” His jet-black eyes pierced me with their intense gaze. Ugh, what those eyes had made me do, over and over again. I never learned.
“Okay, I’ll swing by. What time?” I finally relented. I always found it difficult to say no to Brady, no matter how absurd or dangerous the request.
“We start at eight and go to midnight.” He kissed me happily. “I’ll leave your name at the door. I can’t wait!”
He was gone from the store before I could even reply. That was Brady, a whirlwind if I ever saw one. He was a life force that swept up everything in his path. And unfortunately, I kept putting myself in his way. I was never going to learn.
My shift ended at six o’clock when I closed the store. I had just enough time to get home and have some dinner before heading out to The Old Bank, a nightclub downtown. It wasn’t the trendiest of places, but it did have an old-school charm with its smoky haze and dimmed lighting.
As I made my way through to the front of the crowd, I felt like the odd one out. Everyone that looked at me surely knew my secret. They probably wouldn’t even serve me at the bar – ‘You, woman, are pregnant. No alcohol for you’.
The ironic thing was I could have really used a drink to be able to cope with it all. But, no drinking for me. At least not for another seven to eight months, anyway. Oh, God, how was I supposed to know how far along I was? I had no idea when it was conceived, I didn’t even know who had done the conception. Mother of the year award, right here.
I took a seat at the bar and ordered a soda. Hopefully Brady wouldn’t notice it wasn’t alcoholic. I swiveled around to face the stage where The Hooligans were already playing. Brady played lead guitar, he also did the backup vocals. And he did it all very well.
Out of everyone in the band, Brady was the guy with all the charisma. He always had a legion of girls flock to him after the show. I would like to say that’s not how I met him, but unfortunately that would be a lie. Yes, I was one of those girls, desperate for his attention and willing to throw my panties on stage to get it.
But, in fairness, Brady didn’t sleep with me that night. He took me to an all night diner and we had hot chocolate until sunup. That’s when I really started to fall for him. I would have given him my panties, but he just kissed me good night after walking me back to my apartment and left with my phone number.
The story should have been ‘and they lived happily ever after’ but nothing was ever that simple in Caroline world. Brady was a sweetheart, but he was also a free spirit. At twenty-six years old, he didn’t want to be tied down. Because that’s ‘not how rock stars roll’. His words, not mine.
Brady made it clear we were casual and I didn’t really care. It wasn’t like I was ready for anything serious anyway. Plus, I kind of liked being free myself, it felt naughty being with him and that only made him even hotter.
And Brady was hot, trust me on that one. Under his skinny jeans, ironic band shirt, and hipster fake glasses, he had a body of steel. His six pack abs were drool worthy, not to mention his tattoos of random things – like a pirate ship, a fairy, and a shooting star. He was sexy with a capital S.
Brady was never sexier than when performing on stage. He wailed on his guitar, strumming the chords and making me jealous of them. He could strum me like that any day. Ugh, I shouldn’t have been thinking like that. I was going to be a mother, there was a baby forming inside me. I didn’t have the luxury of my hormones winning out anymore.
Brady was hot, yes. But was he father material? Hell to the no. You couldn’t do casual with a kid, they needed something more permanent.
Just because I was okay with our casual tag, it didn’t mean I would put an innocent child into that same boat. It wasn’t fair to the little tyke. It already had one irresponsible parent, it didn’t need two.
As I sat there in the bar watching him, my mind was pretty much made up. Brady was never going to be the father of my child, even if he biologically might be. It was time I moved onto potential father number two.
Chapter 3
The worst thing about working in retail was the time in between customers when you only had the clothes to keep you company. It allowed for too much thinking time and that was the last thing I needed.
I was suffering a serious case of the grumps, all directed at myself. I was so angry with me for putting me in the situation I was currently in. I should have been responsible, I should have made better decisions, and I definitely shouldn’t have been sleeping around.
Seeing Brady the night before and knowing what I did about the little person growing inside me, it made me wonder if I should tell either of the potential fathers about it. Maybe this kid was better off not knowing. With fewer parents, there was less risk of it being disappointed by them. And I was sure to be enough to give it some serious therapy sessions when it was older.
But, the truth was, I couldn’t do it alone. Even if it was only financial, I needed help. Normally I would struggle along, too proud to admit it. But it wasn’t just me now, I had to think of someone else far more important than I.
Which is how I ended up at Robert’s apartment after work. If either of the potential fathers could be good dads, it would be Robert. He was a lawyer, thirty-two years old, and stable. With a good job, a career, an apartment he owned, he had everything a child needed.
“Hey, you made it,” Robert greeted me, planting a kiss on my cheek. He ushered me into the apartment and placed a glass of wine in my hand before I could say anything.
“Yeah, thanks for seeing me tonight, I know it’s not our usual night.” That’s right, we scheduled our dates in advance. Robert wasn’t exactly the spontaneous kind of guy. If I didn’t work to his schedule, it didn’t work.
“That’s okay, I had a client cancel so it worked out fine. Sit down, tell me about your day.” He pointed to the couch as he took his seat right beside me. I placed the wine glass on the coffee table – making sure to use a coaster.
“I, uh, have some kind of… news.” I started. How was I supposed to tell someone they might be a father but I wasn’t entirely sure? Did I start with saying they had a fifty-fifty chance? Or did it work more on the amount of times you slept together? In that case, it was probably more of a twenty percent chance for Robert.
“What news?” Robert prompted when the silence lingered like someone’s bad breath.
“I’m pregnant.” Apparently you just blurted it out.
Surprise crossed Robert’s face as he processed what I was telling him. He finally decided on a fake smile. “That’s great. I’ve always wanted kids. Probably not for another few years, but it’s not like you can send it back.” He laughed awkwardly, I cringed.
Now was supposed to be the time when I told him about Brady and confess I wasn’t sure if he was the father. He might have even been relieved about it, right? Robert had plans, just like I used to, he might still be able to salvage his.
“You’ll have to tell me when your doctor’s visits are and I’ll get my P.A. to diarize them,” Robert continued before I could open my mouth. “Then there will be the birthing classes, we’ll have to write a list of everything you’ll need. Babies need a lot of stuff, we’ll have to get right on that. What about the living arrangements?”
I didn’t realize Robert was staring at me, expecting an answer. He had reeled off the next eight months like a shopping list. In the process, sucking all the air out of my lungs and causing the walls to start moving in on me.
And was he really expecting me to move in with him? I wasn’t ready for that, I wasn
’t ready for any of it. He had stated all the practicalities of having a baby, but not once had he mentioned how it would feel to be a parent or what it took to nurture a new little life.
Just like our relationship, Robert had approached being a father like a lawyer. You took care of business, you got the job done, regardless of emotions or tenderness.
I had initially loved that kind of assertiveness. I liked it when Robert told me what to do and assumed he knew better than I did. He had been the one to approach me after my car accident lawsuit. He had insisted we went out for a drink to celebrate the small settlement that barely covered my medical bills. All I had really done was gone along with it.
If felt good being looked after and not having to think for myself back then. Now, it felt suffocating.
“I, uh, don’t know. We have a while to work it all out,” I finally replied.
He snatched the wineglass from the table, pouring the contents into his own glass. “You won’t be needing this. Have you started on your vitamins?”
“Vitamins?”
Robert rolled his eyes, like I should know exactly what he was talking about. When did he get so much better at being pregnant than I did? “You need to take vitamins to make sure the baby is healthy. You can’t have a baby with defects.”
“I’ll get some,” I promised, knowing I would love a defective baby regardless. But I still wanted to give it the best shot at life as possible so I would follow his orders.
He started reeling off a list of other things I should be doing, insisting I write them down and take notes.
I listened, and I took notes, because let’s face it, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. Apparently Robert was an expert, his qualification was trying a case against a drug addicted mother whose baby was born with a heroin addiction and was sued by the father. I hoped that didn’t mean he was already putting together a case against me.
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