Pregnant, for preston

MELANIE’s POV

I trailed my way into the office. I just couldn’t digest what she’d said.

“Pregnant, for Preston,” I mouthed. I couldn’t believe her. Maybe Jethro had sent her to me, I thought. I’ve got to talk to him.

“Preston,” I called, knocking, looking at him as I walked in slowly. I knew I had to keep it cool — what if that woman was actually telling the truth, and he was a cheat?

“What brings Mrs. Blackstone to my office?” he grinned, resting his hands on the desk.

“Mrs. Blackstone? Seriously, Preston” I gave him a questioning look.

“Are you here to check on me — how I’m doing after what your husband did to me?” he asked. “Well, I’m good as ever,” he added.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Stop playing innocent, would you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why did you accept eloping with me? You just wanted to show me that you’re Mrs. Blackstone, the wife of the most influential man both in the country and out.”

“Is that what you think?”

“What else should I think?” he yelled, hitting his hand on the table before standing up. “You’ve been using me.”

“Hear me out.”

“I don’t want to hear anything. I’ve listened for too long. It’s time for me to speak,”

“Preston—”

“Leave” he cut me off

“You’re going to be a father?” He looked shocked at her sudden question.

“Yes,” he answered, and I slowly took two steps backward.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“You… who—” I became speechless in that moment. My world began to crumble in my own eyes.

“You shouldn’t have a problem with Irena being pregnant with my child, or are you?” I was shocked by his question.

“Seriously?”

“You’ve had sex with Jethro. Why can’t I do the same with Irena?”

“But I ain’t pregnant.” Tears began rolling down my eyes. “You thought I ditched you. Well, I didn’t — I was kidnapped and almost got sexually assaulted, and about the pregnancy — congratulations.” I walked away, wiping my tears.

***

In Miami, a guy in his late thirties, dressed in cowboy outfit, walked out of the field as he brought down his cowboy hat and gave it to the end of the guards walking behind him.

“Take my horse to the stable,” he said, walking through the paddock towards him and cold as usual.

“Okay, boss,” he said.

“Where’s Salvador?” he asked.

“He’s been waiting at the living room.”

Getting late to the house, they were told they were coming, they wore attacks from the enemy men standing outside already, as my stood at his favourite painting spot, looking.

“Salvador,” he called.

“Rodrigo,” Salvador called, turning around with a grin. “Long time no see, my friend.”

“I’ve got a job for you,” Rodrigo said.

“That’s the reason I left Colombia sooner than I had planned,” he said. “What’s the job for?”

“Manuel invaded my cartel last week,” Rodrigo said, taking a seat on the sofa.

“You want him dead?” Salvador asked.

“No,” he said, lighting his cigarette and taking a deep draw.

“What do you want then?”

“We’ll be going to country C in less than a week,” Rodrigo said.

“America? Why?” He flickered a confused gaze.

“There’s a property of mine over there.”

“Property?”

“Melanie,” he muttered.

“I heard that.” Rodrigo looked up at him. “You’ve got really good eyes in choosing women,” he complimented.

“I want to make her mine.”

“Hope you won’t end up killing her like you killed your other wives?”

“That’s if she doesn’t meddle in my affairs.”

“Really? Did Vicente die because she meddled in your affairs?”

“She peeked at my conversation with Amelia.”

“And you burnt her to death.”

“Don’t make me look like a bad person, Salvador. I didn’t kill her ruthlessly — that’s the most soft way I could kill someone. What about Andrea? I cut her into pieces till she died,” he paused. “And you — you boiled Solidad to death because you saw her waving at Rudra.” He took a draw from his cigarette.

“That’s all in the past.”

“Angel’s already there, keeping an eye on her.”

“Isn’t she married to Mr. Blackstone?” Rodrigo asked.

“Oh yes, she is,” he answered with a nod.

“And you—?”

“He stole her from me. If I don’t get her, then no one will,” he said, and he was livid.

“That man’s dangerous and more powerful. In Colombia, he’s known as the God of the Universe.”

“Black Serpent,” he mimicked disdainfully. “I’m the lord of the underworld.”

“You’ll end up getting killed.”

“Are you scared?” he jeered.

“I’m not — just warning you.”

“Get ready. We’ll be leaving by the end of the week.”

***

MELANIE’s POV

I stood at the balcony, staring out at nothing in particular. I didn’t even know what I was looking at anymore. My mind was a mess — Preston, Irena, the baby that wasn’t mine to be angry about, and now Jethro, who’d been different lately. Gentler. Like he was trying, in his own broken way, to be someone I could trust.

I heard him come in, felt him standing beside me before he said anything.

“Are you okay? You look like something’s wrong.”

I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t. Everything just came pouring out of me before I could stop it — the tears, the exhaustion of holding it together for a month straight.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” His voice had that edge of panic in it, like he thought he’d hurt me again.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” That was the truest thing I could say. I didn’t know how to feel about Preston anymore, about the baby, about myself, about the man standing next to me who I was supposed to hate and somehow didn’t, not fully, not anymore.

“Talk to me,” he said.

I couldn’t find the words. So instead I did something I didn’t plan — I reached for him. Maybe I just needed to feel something that wasn’t grief. Maybe I needed to feel wanted by someone who actually meant it. He pulled me into him, and before I could think it through, I kissed him.

He froze for a second, like he couldn’t believe it either, and then he kissed me back — carefully, like he was afraid I’d change my mind. I didn’t.

In seconds, my night dress dropped on the floor. The next second I was in bed with Jethro. I let myself have that moment. I let myself stop thinking about Preston, about Irena, about the version of my life I thought I was supposed to have.

For once, I let myself just feel — his hands, his voice low against my ear, the way he touched me like I was something worth being gentle with. Part of me hated how much I wanted it. Part of me didn’t care anymore.

Afterward, I lay there for a while, listening to him breathe beside me, and the guilt crept back in slow, the way it always does once the moment’s over. I got up and went to the bathroom before he could see my face change.

I turned the shower on and stood under the water, letting it run over me, through my hair, down my back. I don’t know when the tears started — they just mixed in with the water, and I let them.

Preston’s words wouldn’t leave me alone. They kept looping in my head under the sound of the water.

“Why’d you do something like that?” I asked no one — asked the tiles, the steam, myself. “Whatever I do, it’s your fault now, preston.”

I didn’t know if I meant the baby, or Irena, or myself. Maybe all three. I turned off the shower and stepped out, because staying in there any longer meant I’d have to actually sit with the answer.

***

NARRATOR

Preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Irena heardthe door slam from the living room and began wondering who it could be.

“Irena” She heard Preston’s voice, and began to smile. “Irena,” he yelled.

“Coming.” She walked out, stirring to remove her apron through her head. “what brings you here?”

“What’d you tell Melanie?” he asked, furiously.

“Is that the reason you came here this morning?” She began to laugh. “Just forget about that. Breakfast’s almost—”

“Shut your gob, else I’ll shut it up for you.”

“You’re here to—”

“Irena,” he yelled, pointing a finger at her.

“Don’t shout at me,” she yelled back. “Melanie’s married, and I’m pregnant for your baby, and here you are shouting at me for her.”

“It’s only been three days since you found out about your pregnancy, and you’ve already told her?”

“Why? Don’t you want her to know?” She gave him a questioning look. “Tell me, Preston — don’t you want her to know?”

“Terminate the pregnancy.”

“What did you just say?” She couldn’t believe what she heard. “You want me to get rid of our baby just because of someone who doesn’t even belong to you, who’s married to someone else?” she asked with disbelief.

“Your baby,” he corrected.

“My baby? Your blood flows in him.” She paused and smiled. “No matter what you do, you’re still the father of my unborn baby.”

“How sure should I be that that baby,” he pointed at her stomach, “is mine?”

“You might think what you want, Preston. If you want to conduct a DNA test, then I’m ready at any given time,” she said flatly.

“Terminate your pregnancy,” he said softly.

“I’m not going to terminate my pregnancy.” She walked out on him, back to the kitchen.