CHAPTER 10: The Realization

Monday was not better.

I woke up at six AM and immediately ran to the bathroom to throw up.

"Definitely not stress," Sarah said, appearing in the doorway with a sympathetic expression and a bottle of ginger ale.

"Food poisoning?" I suggested weakly.

"From what? We had salads last night."

Good point.

"Maybe I'm coming down with something."

Sarah was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Bella. When did you say your last period was?"

"I don't know. A few weeks ago."

"And the hotel guy. Did you use protection?"

My stomach dropped. "Yes. Of course. He—" I stopped, thinking back to that night. "He used a condom."

"Condoms fail."

"Not that often."

"Often enough." She crouched beside me. "Bella, I think you need to take a test."

"A test for what?"

She gave me a look.

"No," I said immediately. "No. I can't be—that's not—we used protection."

"Which fails one to two percent of the time."

"Those are good odds!"

"Not when you're the one in the one percent."

I pressed my forehead against the cool tile floor. This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening.

"I can't be pregnant."

"Probably not," Sarah agreed. "But you need to know for sure. I'll run to the drugstore and get a test. You call in sick."

"I can't call in sick. It's only my second week."

"Bella, you just threw up for ten minutes straight. You're calling in sick."

She was right. I was in no condition to face Alexander or James or anyone else at Sterling Corporation.

I sent a brief email to my supervisor citing a stomach bug, then crawled back into bed while Sarah went to get pregnancy tests. Plural, she'd said. "We're getting three different brands. To be sure."

This was insane. I couldn't be pregnant. I was on the pill—well, I had been on the pill before James and I broke up. I'd stopped taking it after because what was the point?

Oh God.

I'd stopped taking the pill two weeks before that night with Alexander.

My hands started shaking.

No. No, the condom would have worked. They worked ninety-eight percent of the time. I couldn't be in the unlucky two percent.

Sarah returned with a pharmacy bag that rattled ominously.

"Okay," she said, dumping three boxes on the bed. "Pick your poison. Or take all three. I vote all three."

"This is crazy."

"Humor me."

I took the tests into the bathroom, reading the instructions with shaking hands. Pee on stick. Wait three minutes. Look for lines or plus signs or whatever marker of doom each brand used.

The first test I took was digital. The kind that literally spelled out the answer so there was no ambiguity.

I peed on the stick, set it on the counter, and waited.

The three minutes felt like three hours.

Sarah knocked on the door. "Well?"

"It's processing."

"What does that even mean?"

"There's a little hourglass symbol that—" I stopped.

The symbol disappeared.

Words appeared on the digital screen.

PREGNANT

I stared at it. Blinked. Read it again.

PREGNANT

"Bella?" Sarah's voice was muffled through the door. "What does it say?"

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Could only stare at that tiny screen and the word that was about to destroy my entire life.

"Bella!"

I unlocked the door. She took one look at my face and knew.

"Oh my God."

"It's wrong," I said. "It has to be wrong. I'll take the others."

I took the second test. Then the third. Lined them all up on the counter like some kind of terrible science experiment.

Test one: PREGNANT

Test two: Two pink lines

Test three: A plus sign

All positive.

I was pregnant.

With Alexander Sterling's baby.

"Okay," Sarah said, her voice taking on that calm, competent tone she used in emergencies. "Okay. This is—this is manageable. You have options."

Options. Right. Options.

"I need to tell him," I heard myself say.

"The hotel guy? Bella, you don't even have his number."

"I know where he works."

Understanding dawned on her face. "Wait. The hotel guy—is he someone at Sterling Corporation?"

I nodded miserably.

"Who? Is it James? Oh my God, did you sleep with James and now you're—"

"No! God, no. Not James."

"Then who?"

I looked at her. My best friend. The person who'd been there through everything—my parents' deaths, college, bad boyfriends, good boyfriends, career struggles, everything.

"It's Alexander Sterling."

Silence.

Complete, total silence.

Then: "THE Alexander Sterling? The CEO? The billionaire? The—Bella, please tell me you're joking."

"I wish I was."

"Oh my God. Oh my God." She sat down hard on the bathroom floor. "You slept with Alexander Sterling. James's father. Your boss. And now you're pregnant with his baby."

"When you say it out loud it sounds even worse."

"Because it IS worse! Bella, this is—this is—I don't even have words for what this is!"

I slid down the wall to sit next to her. "I'm so screwed."

"Okay. Okay." She took a deep breath. "Let's think about this logically. You have to tell him."

"I know."

"Today. You need to tell him today."

"I know."

"And then you need to figure out what you want to do. If you want to—" She stopped. "What do you want to do?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

I put my hand on my still-flat stomach. Somewhere in there was a tiny cluster of cells. Half me, half Alexander Sterling. A baby that shouldn't exist but did.

What did I want?

"I don't know," I whispered. "I need time to think."

"You don't have much time. These decisions are time-sensitive."

"I know. I just—I need to tell him first. Before I decide anything."

Sarah nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to come with you?"

"To tell my boss I'm pregnant with his baby? No. That's a conversation I need to have alone."

"Are you sure? Because this is—Bella, he's a billionaire. He has lawyers. He could—"

"He wouldn't." I said it with certainty. Alexander—Alex—the man who'd held me and asked if I was okay and made sure I wanted everything we did—he wouldn't hurt me. "I know you think I'm naive, but I trust him. At least with this."

"Okay." Sarah squeezed my hand. "When are you going to tell him?"

I looked at my phone. 9:47 AM. He'd be in his office by now. Probably in back-to-back meetings all day.

"Now," I said. "I'm going to tell him now. Before I lose my nerve."

I got dressed in a daze. Jeans and a sweater—I couldn't face professional clothes right now. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely tie my shoes.

"You've got this," Sarah said, hugging me tight. "And whatever happens, I'm here. Okay?"

"Okay."

The subway ride to Midtown felt surreal. Like I was watching someone else's life. Someone else who was twenty-four and pregnant by a man she'd slept with once. Someone else who was about to walk into a billionaire's office and blow up both their lives.

Sterling Corporation loomed above me. I'd been avoiding looking up at it all week—too afraid of what it represented. But now I tilted my head back and stared at the gleaming tower of glass and steel.

Somewhere up there, Alexander was in his office. Working. Completely unaware that in about twenty minutes, I was going to tell him I was carrying his child.

I walked into the lobby. The receptionist recognized me and smiled. "Ms. Martinez. I thought you called in sick?"

"I—yes. But I need to see Mr. Sterling. It's urgent."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but—"

"Mr. Sterling doesn't take walk-ins. If you'd like to schedule—"

"Please." My voice cracked. "It's an emergency. Personal emergency. Just—can you call his assistant? Tell him Bella Martinez needs to see him. Now."

Something in my expression must have convinced her. She picked up the phone.

"David? Hi, it's Jenny at reception. I have a Bella Martinez here. She says it's urgent... Yes, I told her but she says it's personal... Okay. I'll send her up."

She hung up. "Forty-fifth floor. David will meet you there."

"Thank you."

The elevator ride up felt like ascending to my own execution. Each floor that passed was another second closer to changing everything.

Fortieth floor. Forty-first. Forty-second.

What if he didn't believe me? What if he thought I was lying? What if he thought I was trying to trap him?

Forty-third. Forty-fourth. Forty-fifth.

The doors opened.

David Park was waiting. "Ms. Martinez? Is everything alright?"

"I need to see Mr. Sterling. It's urgent."

"He's in a meeting—"

"Please." I was begging now. "Five minutes. That's all I need."

David studied me—taking in my pale face, my trembling hands, my obvious distress—and made a decision.

"Wait here."

He disappeared into Alexander's office. Through the glass walls I could see Alexander at his desk, talking to two men in suits. David leaned in, whispered something. Alexander's head snapped up.

His eyes found me through the glass.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then he stood, said something to the men, and they filed out. David followed, closing the door behind him.

Leaving us alone.

I walked into his office on shaking legs.

"Bella." He came around his desk. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did James—"

"I'm pregnant."

The words tumbled out. Graceless. Abrupt. But there was no good way to say them.

Alexander froze. "What?"

"I'm pregnant. With your baby. From—from that night. I took three tests this morning. All positive. I'm pregnant."

The silence that followed was deafening.

He just stared at me, his face completely blank. Processing. Not believing. Maybe not even hearing me.

"Say something," I whispered.

"You're sure?"

"Three tests. All positive."

"And it's—"

"Yours. Yes. You're the only person I've been with in—" I stopped. "It's yours."

More silence.

Then: "Sit down."

"I'm fine standing."

"Isabella. Sit down before you fall down."

He was right. My legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I sank into one of the leather chairs facing his desk.

Alexander moved to the windows, his back to me. Staring out at the city like it held answers.

"How far along?" he asked finally.

"I don't know. A few weeks? I haven't seen a doctor yet."

"You need to see a doctor."

"I know."

"Today. I'll call—" He stopped. "No. That would look suspicious. You'll need to use your regular doctor."

"I don't have a regular doctor. I moved around too much during college."

He turned to face me. "Then you'll use Dr. Roberts. The company physician. She's discreet."

"People will talk."

"Let them talk."

We stared at each other across his office. The city glittered behind him. Everything looked normal. Everything was catastrophically wrong.

"What do you want to do?" he asked quietly.

The question I'd been dreading.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just found out two hours ago. I haven't—I need time to think."

"Of course." He moved to his desk, pulling out a business card and writing something on the back. "This is my personal cell phone. Not the office line. Call me. Anytime. Day or night. When you've made a decision or if you just need to talk or—anything. Call me."

I took the card, our fingers brushing. The touch sent electricity through me. "Okay."

"And Bella?" He waited until I met his eyes. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you. Financially, emotionally, whatever you need. This is—this is my responsibility too."

Responsibility. The word stung. Is that all this was to him? A responsibility to be managed?

"I should go," I said, standing.

"Take the rest of the week off. Paid leave. You need time to process this."

"I can't just—"

"You can. I'll approve it. No one will question it."

"James will."

"I don't care what James thinks."

I headed for the door, then stopped. "For what it's worth, I wasn't trying to trap you. I didn't plan this. I didn't even know who you were when—"

"I know." His voice was soft. "I believe you."

"Okay. Good."

I left before I could say anything else. Before I could break down completely.

David was at his desk. If he'd heard anything through the walls, he gave no indication.

"Are you alright, Ms. Martinez?"

"Fine. Thank you."

The elevator ride down was a blur. The subway ride back to Sarah's apartment was a blur. Everything was a blur except the feeling of the business card in my pocket, burning like a brand.

I was pregnant.

With Alexander Sterling's baby.

And I had absolutely no idea what to do about it.