Believing In Fate - book 1

Chapter 31 - Old Enemies

Asimina

Fluttering my eyes open, Raffaele gently caresses the side of my face. I've fallen asleep on him, my head resting on his thigh. Sitting up, I blink to clear my vision, and my uneasy stomach begins to churn. Closing my eyes, my attempt to control the bile fails, and deep breaths aren't helping.

"Are you okay?" Tommy prods, noticing my nauseated state.

"I need those pills," I mumble. Placing my hand over my mouth, I run for the toilet. Leon quickly jumps out of my way. I guess they've all learned their lesson. The morning sickness, along with the turbulence from the flight, brings up last night's dinner.

Having spent the last ten minutes throwing up, I wash my mouth out and brush my teeth. There's nothing more putrid than the taste of bile in your mouth! Unlatching the door, Raffaele leans against the panel, looking concerned. Handing me the pills along with a bottle of water, he asks, "Morning sickness?"

I nod. Weak steps carry me to where everyone is seated as the boys skew their eyes and stare. "This can't go on!" I grumble with distress. Running my fingers through my hair, I seal my eyes, praying the nausea pills to kick in quickly. Isn't pregnancy meant to be blissful? Don't women usually glow?

"Is Mia this bad?" Tommy question Mariano, wavering me from my thoughts.

"Mia is pregnant?" I probe as my curiosity piques.

Nodding, he smiles proudly. "She may be a little further than you, but morning sickness hasn't affected her."

"Congratulations," I mumble into my hand, "I'm must be very lucky. I mean, how many women lose seven pounds in a pregnancy?" Gliding onto the sofa, my breathing remains heavy.

"Are you okay?" Raffaele tugs on his pants, taking a seat next to me.

"Don't ask me that," I retort.

"You don't want me to be concerned about you?" Hiking a brow, he studies me.

"You should be suffering too," I crudely blurt. "I want steak and mashed potatoes with mushroom sauce. Only everything is rancid, and I can't fucking eat. When I finally do get something in my stomach, I just end up throwing up!" My unbalanced, unpredictable hormones have tears welling up in my eyes. I can't control my outburst.

Sliding across, Raffaele leans his elbow on the headrest, eyes intently watching me. I'm exhausted, weak, hungry, and above all, extremely emotional. Breathing into my hand, I settle another wave of nausea. I'm not coping. "I can't do this-" I begin.

Interrupting me, he waves his hand, signaling his men to leave. His eyes narrow, threatening me, and all empathy diminishes. "You're not terminating!"

Breathing shallow, my features distort in confusion. The thought of termination never crossed my mind. "I wasn't." Mortified it even crossed his mind, I shake my head vigorously.

My eyes fall heavy, and I breathe slowly. Thoughts of becoming a mother excite me, but also terrify me. I'm already in love. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I'm saddened. Nothing seems to be in my favor. My pregnancy isn't smooth, and I'm incapable of keeping a meal down.

Thoughts of Alonzo once again bring bile. I don't regret this pregnancy, although the timing isn't great. I have a lunatic utterly obsessed with me, hunting me as if I'm his prey. Now more than ever I'm scared, not just for myself but the child I'm carrying. I cannot end up in that man's hands.

Exhaling, Raffaele dives his hand into his pocket, handing me the pills. He instructs, "Three a day, maximum, Asimina." Understanding, I take them from him. Picking up his drink, he turns his body in my direction. "Petro is arranging your appointments. We will ensure the nausea is controlled."