Two

Anika

My head felt as though it were being crushed in a vice, the weight of a long, dark sleep pinning me to the mattress. 

I blinked against the harsh fluorescent hum of the hospital room, my hand instinctively going to my abdomen where a dull, persistent ache throbbed.

I turned my head. The chair where Merrick had sat was empty. The bed where Karla had been coughing and gasping was gone.

The silence was terrifying.

The door pushed open. A woman in a white coat walked in, flipping through a clipboard. She wasn't the doctor from before.

"You're awake," she said, her voice clinical.

I struggled to sit up, my voice coming out in a dry rasp. "My sister... Karla. Is she okay? Everyone was here, she was unconscious, and then I—"

"Sister?" The doctor looked up, her brow furrowing as she scanned the room. "You were the only one in this ward when I came on shift, Ma’am."

"Oh. My sister was the one I donated to."

Maybe they had transferred her to another ward. 

The doctor checked her notes, then looked back at me with a strange expression. "I don't know about a sister. But if you’re asking about the patient you donated blood for,” she said, “he’s stable.”

I paused.

“He?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes.”

I stared at her for a moment, then looked away. Maybe she was mistaken, or maybe I was the one who was still not fully awake.

I let out a slow breath and shifted my focus.

“What about my hus…” I stopped myself, then corrected, “Mr. Sterling? And the others?”

The doctor closed the file. “They left hours ago. He went home with his fiancée and the rest of the family.”

Fiancée?

I looked at her again, certain I heard wrong.

“Sorry… what did you say?”

“He left with his fiancée,” she repeated, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I forced a small nod, even though nothing about it felt normal.

“Right.”

She stepped closer and began checking my vitals. “You’re stable now, but you lost quite a bit of blood. You should have refused the procedure if you weren’t in the right condition.”

“I was fine,” I said automatically.

She gave me a look. “Your body said otherwise. Your readings were unstable from the start.”

I said nothing.

“There were other compatible donors,” she continued. “You didn’t have to push yourself like that.”

I managed a faint smile. “My mother wouldn’t have agreed to that. And… I was available.”

The doctor watched me for a moment, then sighed lightly.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” she said. “Not in your condition.”

I frowned slightly. “My condition?”

She paused, then looked up at me fully.

“You’re pregnant,” she said.

I nodded once, absentmindedly but paused. My head snapped to her face. 

“I’m… what?”

She blinked. “You didn’t know?”

I shook my head slowly, my heart beginning to race.

“You consented to a blood transfusion without knowing you were pregnant?” Her voice sharpened slightly. “Do you understand how risky that was? You could have lost the baby. The strain on your heart alone—didn't anyone do a preliminary screen?"

Her words blurred together after that.

Pregnant.

The word settled somewhere deep in my chest, unfamiliar but warm.

“I…” I touched my stomach without thinking. “There’s really a baby?”

She softened slightly. “Yes. And you’re lucky. The baby is fine.”

A breath I didn’t know I was holding slipped out.

“Fine…” I repeated softly.

“You need to be careful going forward,” she continued. “No more stress. No more procedures like that. You have to think about the child now.”

I nodded slowly, a small smile forming despite everything.

A child. My baby. 

“M— Mr. Sterling doesn’t know?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No one mentioned it. As far as I’m aware, no one knows.”

I pressed my lips together, the smile returning.

A sob of relief escaped me. I would tell him myself. Tonight. I’d walk into the mansion, tell him I was carrying his heir, and all the coldness of the last three years would melt away. 

He wouldn't have to keep me a secret anymore. A baby would change everything.

“That’s fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll tell him myself.”

She studied me briefly, then nodded.

“I’ll run a few more checks. If everything is stable, you can leave later.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

****

The rain was a torrential curtain by the time the cab pulled up to the Sterling Mansion. I hauled my luggage through the mud, my body feeling lighter than it had in years. The exhaustion was there, but the secret in my womb was an engine of pure fire.

I stepped into the foyer, shivering. Madison, my mother-in-law, was in the dining room, smoothing out a white lace tablecloth. The house smelled of expensive lilies and roasted meat.

"Oh. You’re back," she said, not even looking up. "Fainting just so you could skip out on the New Orleans reports was a clever move, Anika. I just hope my son has the sense to push you out the door before you find another excuse to be lazy."

I looked around. The house was decorated with a subtle, elegant opulence—roses, tall candles, the vintage crystal.

"Is there a celebration tonight, Madison?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

"A private one," she snapped. "Not that it concerns an assistant."

I didn't let her bitterness touch me. “Just wait,” I thought. “Wait until you find out you’re going to be a grandmother.”

I hurried upstairs. Our bedroom was empty, the air smelling faintly of Merrick’s sandalwood cologne. I took a hot bath, scrubbing the hospital scent and the soda stains from my skin until I glowed. I picked out my favorite dress—a silk wrap that flowed over my still-flat stomach.

I headed back downstairs, my heart racing. I saw James, the butler, near the kitchen. He was the only person in this house who ever looked at me with kindness.

"James, is Merrick in his study?"

James looked at me, and for a second, I saw a flash of raw grief in his eyes. He looked away quickly, pointing toward the garden. "He is in the gazebo, Ma’am."

The gazebo. My favorite spot.

I grabbed an umbrella and stepped out into the downpour. The rain drummed against the fabric, masking the sound of my footsteps as I crossed the lawn. 

The gazebo was glowing like a lantern in the dark, the golden light spilling onto the wet grass.

I reached the steps, a smile already forming on my lips. "Merrick, I have something to tell—"

The words died in my throat.

Merrick wasn't alone. He was sitting on the wide armchair, and Karla, my "terminally ill" sister, was draped across his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. 

She looked vibrant and healthy.

I stayed in the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was about to step forward when Karla’s voice drifted through the rain.

"That was a smart move from my mother, don't you think, honey?"

*Honey?* I froze. The umbrella handle felt slick in my hand.

"It was," Merrick replied. His voice wasn't cold or aloof, instead it was filled with a deep, haunting tenderness I had prayed for every night for three years. 

"I mean, how else would we have gotten her to freely donate blood for our little boy after you’re healed?"

The umbrella slipped from my hand.