AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (175 page)

Chapter 6

              Two months had passed, and our life picked back up as it had been before, but there was something new about Christopher. He had the occasional meeting, business trip, or appearance, but he made it a point to bring me on his travels or return early. I had a few gallery shows, and he bragged about my work and the support I had been to his. His random gifts and surprises were trips to museums, art supplies, and camera upgrades and attachments.

              There was something new about me as well. Several things, in fact. My breasts were bigger, and I was always hot and tired. I could also smell everything, which made every place but home almost intolerable. We were out to dinner when I finally put two and two together.

              I ordered my favorite meal at a hot spot restaurant during a publicity dinner Christopher had to attend. When it was brought to the table the smell alone sent me running to the bathroom. I sat in the stall a moment and realized I was late. Two months late. For a moment I was really excited, since Chris and I had just gotten engaged. Then I remembered everything that had happened at the time we got engaged.

              I had kept my secret so far, but I was fairly light skinned. Dane was very dark. If this baby wasn’t Christopher’s, there would be no hiding it.

              First, I needed to be sure there was a baby.

              I left the bathroom and sneaked out of the restaurant without returning to the table or telling Christopher. I got a cab, went to the nearest store that would have a pregnancy test, and had the cab drop me off at home.

              I did my business according to the instructions and had the longest sixty seconds of my life to think about all that was wrong with this picture. I was engaged and pregnant, uncertain who the father was. I didn’t know I was pregnant, so I had drunk alcohol a few times at events the past two months. The man I loved more than anything and hoped to marry might not want me after this. I didn’t think I was cut out for motherhood, much less being a single mother.

              The timer on my phone went off just as I hear the door slam.

              “Alicia?” I heard Christopher’s voice call.

              I didn’t know what to say or do.

              “Alicia, are you here?” I heard him running up the stairs, then entering our room.

              When he came into our bathroom I was sitting on the floor by the bathtub, holding the stick.

              “I’m pregnant,” I said, turning the stick so the blue lines faced him.

              He went from a look of fear to almost teary excitement. He came to me on the floor and held me and kissed me. He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, and then raised me slightly to place a kiss on my stomach.

              “I’m going to be a daddy. We are going to be a family,” he said, hugging me.

              There was a tenderness in him I had not seen or felt before. He hugged me and began repeatedly saying “I love you,” sometimes to me, and sometimes to the little one we now knew was inside me.

              “I love you, too,” I said, holding him back.

              All I wanted was to stay in this moment and hold him. I didn’t know if he would ever hold me this way again.

              It seemed I would find out quickly. When I came down to find something for breakfast the next morning, the table was already set with a variety of breakfast foods, fruits, and juices.

              “I hired a cook to start immediately. She will be at your beck and call for whatever you want. I also took the day off so we can go look at baby things. We can get some basics without knowing the sex, but I feel like it’s a boy. I’ll be happy if it’s a girl, but I just have this feeling.” Chris had started talking as soon as he saw me, and did not seem like he planned to stop.

              I looked around the table and grabbed a muffin and juice to start, but I intended to take full advantage of the spread that had been prepared.

              “Also, I have made appointments with a doctor and a lawyer for this afternoon. We will need to go ahead and do the paternity test and start any legal work that will be affecting my new little family,” he said, still buzzing around me.

              All I really heard was “paternity test.” I nearly choked on my muffin, but managed to make it seem I was clearing my throat. Everything would be fine as long as the results showed the baby was his. I had only been with Dane one time. Surely the baby would be Christopher’s.

              I hoped.

Chapter 7

              The day had a late start since I slept so long and ate so much, but Christopher had a lot of pull. We are able to see the doctor immediately when we arrived, and even able to rush the results on the non-invasive prenatal paternity test. Results that should have taken about a week were provided three days later.

              I came home from a day sketching to find Christopher on the couch with a barely touched glass of some kind of liquor.

              “Who did you sleep with?” he asked.

              I didn’t deny it. I knew I couldn’t hide it if the results came back negative.

              “Just a guy who owns a restaurant in my old neighborhood. I was there one night I was gone after we had fought so bad. When I came back I was going to tell you the moment I saw you, but you didn’t give me a chance. Then, you proposed,” I tried to explain, but even hearing myself I knew I could have tried harder.

              “What about all the time since then? At no point did you ever just tell me, ‘baby, I slept with someone else.’” He still had not even looked at me.

              I came and sat in a chair near where he was sitting on the couch. He immediately stood and began to pace the room and run his hands along his cheek and jaw.

              “At no point did you feel you needed to be honest with me about having shared your body with another person during our relationship,” he said, getting louder.

              “After the fight I wasn’t sure where we were or where I was,” I said, knowing that was no defense.

              “You had made love to me the night before,” he yelled.

              I flinched, and he tried to compose himself again.

              “You were in my arms the night before. I thought we had made up. Then you were gone for a day and a night and accepted my proposal when you came back. We have made love so many times since then. I have held you so many times since then, kissed you and loved you since then,” he said.

              He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t pacing. He was standing, shaking his head in disbelief, hurting.

              “Christopher,” I said softly.

              “Don’t. You cheated on me and now the woman I intended to marry is pregnant with another man’s baby,” he said.

              “
Intended
?” I asked, leaning forward in the seat, feeling tears immediately start pouring from my face.

              He just shook his head.

              “Christopher, I love you. It was a mistake. I was hurting and went back to where we met. I walked around my old neighborhood. I ate at a restaurant I used to go to, and now some guy named Dane owns it. I got drunk, and angrier, and sadder, and made a mistake,” I said, half yelling, half crying.

              He didn’t say a word. He went upstairs to our room. I followed him, but he moved too fast. He was in the room with the door locked as I was just reaching the top of the stairs.

              I knocked and beat on it, apologizing and telling him I loved him, but I didn’t hear him say anything back. After a few minutes of me just being pressed to the door, apologizing, it opened and I stumbled into him making his way out.

              He had on a fresh suit and shades.

              He made his way down the stairs without even acknowledging me. I followed him, but he steadily increased the distance between us.

              “Where are you going?” I asked, still crying.

              He kept walking.

              “When will you be back?” I said.

              Silence.

              “Christopher, I love you,” I said as he reached the front door.

              He stopped for a moment. Then, without looking back, he stepped through the door.

              I didn’t follow. I knew he didn’t want me to.

Chapter 8

              Weeks went by without a word from Chris. My messages to his office went unreturned. Eventually, I was asked to stop calling.

              He still seemed to be paying for our place and utilities, because nothing was turned off. He also seemed to be paying for the personal chef, because she came every day and cooked as much as the morning I first met her.

              I hoped these things meant that he still loved me, but more and more I felt like they were a parting gift. At least he wasn’t a man who would just leave me stranded.

              One morning the phone rang, but knowing it wouldn’t be him I had started letting all the calls go to the machine. This one was another doctor’s appointment. I was roughly nine weeks at the first visit. Christopher had not seen me since then. I had started to show. My butt, boobs, and a small bump undeniably announced to the world I was having a baby.

              I’m sure to Christopher it was all more reminders that I was not having his baby. It also probably reminded him that I had gotten pregnant by another man while I was his girl.

             
I’m not his girl anymore
. A heartbreaking thought.

              He was not at the twelve- or sixteen-week appointments. I doubted he would be with me now for the twentieth.

              I tried to build a little excitement for myself. I was still going to be a mother. This visit I would find out if I was welcoming a sweet baby boy or girl. I didn’t have a preference. I knew life for the baby and me would be a challenge either way.

              I looked down at my hand. My fingers were getting more and more plump and the engagement ring Christopher had given me just seemed out of place on my hand.

              “I think it may be time to take you off,” I said to the ring.

              It gleamed at me, but said nothing.

              “What do you think, little one?” I said giving my tummy a little pat.

              I felt a few small kicks and some other movement.

              “I’m sorry I messed things up with your father. Not the one I made you with, but your father. The one who would have really loved us both. Mommy is an idiot, but I promise, where you are concerned I will always make the best decision.”

              I gave my tummy a good rub and felt a firm kick. For the first time, the little thumps and bumps were strong enough that I could see the movement. That was all the reassurance I needed to try one more time.

              I called Christopher’s office.

              “You know you aren’t supposed to call here anymore,” his assistant said.

              She was a nice, middle-aged black woman. She liked Chris and me together, but she was pretty open minded. One of her daughters was a lesbian, the other had a stereotypical hetero same-race marriage, and her son had married a white woman he’d met in college. Before becoming Christopher’s secretary, she had been a family friend whose husband had died. She was good at her job, but it also kept her busy since her kids were grown and moved away, and Chris was like a fourth child to her.

              She had been upset with me about what happened between us, but also understood a mistake was a mistake. She hoped we’d get back together.

              “Can you just tell him that the ultrasound is at the end of the month?” I asked.

              There was a moment of silence on the phone.

              “I’ll make sure he is aware,” she said.

              Then she hung up. I sat back and continued to talk to the baby about the man who should have been his or her father.

              Before bed that night, I took the ring off. The following morning, I had it messengered to Christopher’s office.

Chapter 9

              Two more weeks had passed and it was the day of the appointment. I ate a lighter breakfast that morning and got dressed. It was my first time venturing out in maternity clothes.

              I had fixed my hair and makeup and painted my toes as best as I could. I had called a taxi the day before, so when I left the building it was already waiting for me. The ride to the doctor was short, but everything except the furniture at home and a nightgown or pajamas felt uncomfortable and hot.

              As I looked around the waiting room there were a few women like me, who were there alone, but most of them had engagement or wedding rings. There were others who were there with their husbands. None of them were alone, really. Not like I was.

              One by one they were called into their appointments. Without Chris I didn’t receive special treatment from the staff, not that I needed it. I really didn’t care about that, I just wished he was there.

              “Alicia Meadows?” a nurse called.

              “Yes, ma’am. Coming,” I said, gathering the large purse I’d brought. It really only held my wallet and some snacks. Well, and a comb and some lotion, but strictly essentials.

              The nurse showed me to one of the ultrasound rooms. I had made an appointment for the longer session so I could get video of the baby.

              After showing me to the room and helping me get in the correct position on the raised bed, she assured me the doctor would be in soon and left. All I could do was wait.

              I had gotten into the habit of talking to the baby, so I did.

              “When we are done here, would you like to have a burger? Mommy has a taste for a loaded burger, some fries, and a lemonade. You didn’t let me eat much this morning. Thanks for dialing down the morning sickness, though. I appreciate that. We have had a few rough weeks lately,” I said, patting my tummy.

              “You have,” said a man’s voice entering the room.

              I knew without looking that it was Christopher. I would know his voice anywhere. I didn’t look around, and I didn’t hear his voice or footsteps come any closer. I sat up slightly, then lay back as the nurse had left me again.

              “I have. We have. My morning sickness got pretty bad, so I lost weight instead of gaining it until recently. They put me on two nausea medications and an iron pill. The said my hemoglobin count was too low,” I said.

              I heard him step slightly closer.

              “Are you doing better?” he asked.

              “Mostly. I eat. It doesn’t always stay down, but that’s pregnancy, right?”

I tried to laugh at my own bad joke, but it almost turned to crying, so I just focused on the wall ahead of me. I went back to rubbing my tummy, and it moved a little.

When he saw that, Christopher came around beside me. He stared at my stomach.

“I’m surprised you came,” I said.

“I’m surprised I came, too,” he said.

The doctor walked in and Christopher stepped back to give him room for the ultrasound. The baby wiggled and squirmed and put on quite a show, but never gave a good view of its genitals. I left the office with a good video of a healthy active baby, but no more idea of whether I was preparing for a boy or girl. In the photos the doctor provided there were two frames that really stood out. One was a clear shot of the baby’s face, which looked mostly like mine as a child. The other image was the baby’s hand. During the ultrasound the baby had seemed to wave at us.