Page 50 of Accidentally Yours

ChapterTwenty-Two

Willa

I gulped when I heard the words. How was this possible? I was strict with my birth control, and there was only—oh shit.

Dr. Beninati left the room. Damien stood with his back turned, hands on his hips, staring out the window. An accidental marriage, and now, an accidental baby. It felt like my entire life was one big accident.

Silence filled the room, but I didn’t expect it to be all happiness and rainbows.

“I’m not getting an abortion,” I blurted out.

He turned and looked at me. “I never asked you to.”

“But I know it’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not that man, Willa. Regardless of what you believe. I don’t believe in abortions, unless it’s what a woman wants. We can talk about the baby later at home.”

“Home?” I laughed. “I don’t have a home at the moment.”

“You’re staying with me.”

“No, Damien. I can get a hotel room.”

“You’re pregnant with my baby, and I said you’re staying at the penthouse with me. It’s not up for discussion, Willa. I’m your husband.”

“Only on paper.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Dr. Beninati walked into the room with the ultrasound machine and a giant probe.

“Because it’s a very early pregnancy, we have to do a transvaginal ultrasound,” he said.

He gently inserted the probe and had the nurse turn off the lights. I couldn’t see anything, and I started to panic.

“See this right here?” The doctor pointed to a shadow on the monitor. “This is your baby.”

Tears sprang to my eyes as I saw life growing inside me. I reluctantly glanced at Damien, who stared at the screen. I couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“The baby looks just fine. You need to follow up with an OB/GYN and start prenatal care. You two are free to go. I’ll get the discharge papers ready.”

Silence filled the room once again.

“Let me help you get dressed,” Damien said.

“I can manage on my own. Can you please step out of the room?”

“Seriously, Willa? Come on?” He cocked his head.

“Whatever, Damien.”

I dressed and we headed out of the hospital and to his penthouse.

“I’m sure you have work to do. I’ll be fine,” I said, sitting on the couch.

“I’m not going back to work today. I’m staying with you. In fact, you’re getting into bed and resting. Let’s go.” He gripped my arm.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” I said.

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