Page 79 of Dash

I leanmy head against the cold tile, breathing through my nose as if that’s going to stop me from throwing my guts up.

From the moment I did that pregnancy test, my symptoms seem to have ramped up, like the baby is constantly trying to remind me that it’s in there, no matter how much I try to ignore it.

It’s getting hard to hide my symptoms. I can blame the exhaustion on work, on stress, on late nights, but projectile vomiting can only be attributed to the spirit of Dash’s sperm.

It’s not something I can hide. I also can’t avoid him forever. The migraine excuse will only work for so long.

I know I should just tell him, deal with whatever the fallout might be, because dealing with the revolution my body is going through and weaving all these lies is taking its toll on me.

“Miss Harrington? Are you alright? You’ve been in here for a while now and we’re due for a client call in fifteen minutes?”

I close my eyes, hoping it will make my boss piss off. I could honestly give two fucks about a client call.

“Uh-huh, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

She mutters something under her breath, and I wait until I hear the door before I get off the toilet floor.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so drained in my entire life.

I place a hand over my stomach, still flat, still causing chaos.

“What are you doing to me?” I ask, my voice soft.

I go back to my desk, ignoring the way my boss is shooting daggers at me. Ignoring the rolling feeling in my stomach.

I’ve barely settled into my seat when she steps up to my desk. “Miss Harrington, are you planning on spending all of this week in the ladies’ room? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we are on the brink of a deadline that could have massive repercussions for our department. I need you doing your best work.”

I swallow the bile trying to rise up my throat. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling well this week and I’m trying to push through so I don’t let the team down.”

I choke on those words. I couldn’t give two fucks about the team, but I also need this job, now more than ever.

She stares at me like I might be contagious.

“I expect those reports before noon.”

My smile might as well be laced with arsenic.

As soon as she walks away my stomach drops, for an entirely different reason. I haven’t even started that report.

I completely spaced.

Shit.

I load up the spreadsheet I need, my eyes blurring as I try to read the information I need. It’s going to be a long day.

By the time five o’clock rolls around, all I want to do is go home and sleep, but I have to get ready to go to my other job. I get changed in the office bathroom I’ve spent half the day visiting, my uniform for the coffee shop hidden under Dash’s hoodie.

I check my phone and see two messages from him.

Dash:

You feeling better?

Dash:

You need anything?

Fuck. I lean my head against the cubicle wall. I hate lying to him. Hate that I’m too fucking scared to tell him the truth—that we made a baby together.

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