The Maternalistic Maid {UNEDITED; BOOK 2}

Chapter 8: Fatherly Instinct

Shadé

I was tempted to research whatever pills would give me an overdose and just take me out of my misery. The moment I saw the plus, the double lines, and the digital words of 'pregnant', I almost shitted myself clean. Aimee and I didn't tell Gina that we found out I was carrying a baby. But I did keep the tests in a small jewelry box, just in case. I don't know what the case would be, but I knew I couldn't just throw them out. I should have though. I should have thrown them in the dumpster, say fuck my morals, and use all of the money I have saved up to pay for an abortion. I was always pro-choice; a woman should do whatever she wanted with her body. But for me, I had never imagined myself getting an abortion until now.

"I want to get rid of it," I told Aimee just before releasing a hiccup. "Excuse me," I apologized.

"As in an abortion or adoption," she asked, her brows raised the highest I've ever seen them.

"Abortion. I heard it's legal here. And I'm obviously not that far along. It probably doesn't even look like a baby yet," I said, my mind beginning to panic. I couldn't have been no more than four weeks along, the baby probably still looked like a grain of rice. It can't possibly be that bad.

"Folashadé, you should probably think more about it. You have until you're about 24 weeks along to decide if you want to have the baby or not," she consoled me, gently holding my hand as we sat on my bed. The cursed jewelry box was placed between us, tempting me to throw it out, get rid of this thing inside of me, and forget that all of this ever happened in the first place. It would just stay between Aimee and I.

"But Aimee, I already know what I want and I don't want this child," I said, pulling my hand away and standing up. I needed a pen and paper.

"What about the child's father? He should also be a part of this decision," she spoke, stopping me at the mention of the baby's father. I was turned in the opposite direction as I answered her.

"The father? He doesn't want anything to do with me. He's married and already has a family of his own. He's not... he's not going to help me, Aimee," I answered her as deaf tears trailed down my bronzed cheeks. "I don't think I'll ever be able to see him again. He was a one-night stand anyway." I proceeded to search for a pen and paper. I needed to do some research on obstetricians in the area that would get rid of this thing. 

I didn't want to live with the stigma of being a single mother, who did not know the baby's father. And it's not so much that I wouldn't have known who he was, I didn't want anything to do with him after that day. I certainly don't want any ties to him once I leave for New York.

"So it's not... His Royal Highness's child," she asked, warily.

I snapped my head in her direction at the mention of Vincent. "No, it's not," I said sharply. "Yeah, we kissed but nothing went past that," I lied, although I sounded offended.

"So you were seeing a third man while you were with Frank," she questioned and I was almost tempted to yell at her but thought otherwise.

"Yes. I'm not proud of it but it happened," I continued on with my lie. I'd rather lie and really make myself out to be some sort of whore than to admit that this child was actually Vincent's.

A loud knock reverberated from my room door as I continued searching for a pen and paper. "Come in," I shouted, ignoring Aimee's sharp glare.