CHAPTER SEVEN: Pregnant

Ava:

The room was spinning, and it suddenly felt like I couldn’t get enough air.

“Go home, Ava.” He turned back to his desk, picking up his papers again. The conversation was over. And I was dismissed.

Just like that.

“And don’t come back here unless you’re invited. You’re a Rossi now. Start acting like it.”

I stood there for a long moment, staring at him. At the father who’d chosen money over his daughter. Who’d locked me in a room and forced me into a marriage and now couldn’t even pretend to care.

And I couldn’t figure out why he was this way with me, or perhaps it was because I wasn’t his favorite. I wasn’t Ivy. I was even close to her in his list.

Without another word, I turned and walked out.

Mom was in the hallway, clutching a teacup that was shaking in her hands. She’d been listening.

Our eyes met, and I saw how red-rimmed hers were. I couldn't even blame her anymore. She would always bend to Father’s will and stray from my choices.

“Ava.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” She was sorry that she could do nothing. She couldn't even say anything against my father.

And again, I wasn’t surprised. My mom was submissive to the bone. Worse, she was shackled in this marriage with my father for as long as she’d live.

I couldn't look at her. If I looked at her, if I saw that guilt and pain in her eyes, I would shatter into a thousand pieces right there in the hallway.

In my case, she was just as helpless as her own mother had been when she was being forced to marry my father.

“It’s fine,” I said, walking past her toward the door. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” She followed me; her voice was so damn weak it broke something inside me. “You’re not fine, and it's my fault. I should have stopped him. I should have protected you. I’m your mother, and I—"

“Mom.” I stopped at the door, my hand on the knob. “Please. Just... please.”

“At least wait for a while, and have tea with me,” she pleaded.

I shook my head once.

She made a sound like a sob. “I love you. I need you to know that. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to—"

I wasn’t ready to hear whatever she had to say, so I opened the door and walked out before she could finish.

Pulling my phone from my purse, I called a Bolt and gave them an address I’d found that morning, back when I’d still been trying to convince myself I was wrong about the symptoms.

✦✧✦✧✦

The waiting room at the hospital was generic, with outdated magazines and a fish tank in the corner that needed cleaning. I filled out forms with my new last name and tried not to think about what I was doing here.

I also tried not to think about my period that was now a week late. Something that had never happened before.

It was stress. It had to be stress. But I needed to make sure it was actually just stress.

Except I knew better. Deep down, in some part of me I was trying desperately to ignore, I already knew.

“Ava Rossi?”

A nurse with brown eyes and wearing purple scrubs called my name. I followed her down a hallway to an exam room.

She took my blood pressure. Drew blood. Asked questions about my symptoms. When was my last period? Was I sexually active? Any chance I could be pregnant?

“I really don't know,” I said, even though that was a lie.

She smiled. “That’s fine. We’ll know soon enough.”

I waited for what felt like hours.

The doctor who came in fifteen minutes later was a woman in her forties. She sat down across from me with a folder in her hands and a small smile on her face.

“Mrs. Rossi.” She accessed me. “Your bloodwork came back. I have your results.”

My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. Her smile looked similar to one people give when they are about to announce great news to you.

“You’re pregnant. About four weeks along, based on your hormone levels. I’m surprised you noticed the symptoms very early.”

I could see the doctor’s mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying anymore. All I could hear was a single word, which repeated itself in my thoughts.

Pregnant.

Four weeks. My last period had been around two weeks before the wedding. Everything slowly started adding up, and the more it did, the more the dread in the pit of my stomach.

“Mrs. Rossi?” The doctor interrupted my train of thoughts. “Are you alright? I know this can be overwhelming news, especially if it’s unexpected.”

“I'm fine.” The lie came automatically. “I just... I wasn’t expecting.”

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Do you have someone you can call? Your husband, maybe? Or a family member? It’s not a good idea to drive yourself home after news like this. Or we could call a cab?”

“There’s no one,” I told her, and the truth of that statement settled over me. I didn’t realize when tears started pooling in the corner of my eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she handed me a folder anyway. “This has information about prenatal care, what to expect in the first trimester, recommendations for vitamins. I’d like to see you back in two weeks for an ultrasound.”

I took the folder with numb hands.

“Congratulations,” the doctor said again, still smiling like this was something to celebrate.

I nodded. And stood up, almost stumbling over, but she caught me fast.

“Thank you,” I muttered in a low voice and walked out of that office on legs that didn’t quite feel attached to my body.

I somehow made it to a taxi before my hands started shaking.

What do I even do? Where do I even go?

I…I was pregnant. My husband was unreachable, and I was all alone.

I was pregnant with Dante Rossi’s baby.

The same man that disappeared from my life exactly three weeks ago.