Page 240 of The Baby Twist
“Mr. Stone, there’s a Marley Monroe here to see you.”
I swallowed hard. Maybe she changed her mind about the money.
“Send her up.”
I walked over to the elevator, and when the doors opened, she stepped into the foyer, pulling a large suitcase behind her.
“Um, what’s going on?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on?” she said, placing her hand over her mouth. “What is that smell?”
“Thai food. I was just about to sit down and eat.”
She let go of her suitcase and ran to the bathroom down the hall. I followed and stood in the doorway, leaning against the door with my arms folded.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you sick or something?”
“I’m pregnant, you idiot! All-day sickness. The smell of that Thai food sent me over the edge.” She continued to vomit.
“What are you doing here, Marley? And why do you have a suitcase with you?”
She wiped her mouth with a tissue and stood up. “I’m moving in.” She pushed past me.
“Excuse me? I don’t think so.”
She stopped, turned around, and jammed her finger into my chest.
“Oh, yes, I am. Guess what, Charlie? I had my first ultrasound today.”
“Okay? And?”
“It’s twins. TWINS! Not one baby, but TWO! You did this to me.” She kept jamming her finger into me. “And now, you’re taking on the responsibility as a father, whether you like it or not.”
I began to sweat. Twins? This couldn’t be happening.
“I can’t raise two babies alone, and my apartment is too small to put two children in there. But the twin’s father has this monstrous penthouse that would be perfect for all of their needs.”
I ran my hands down my face and walked over to the couch.
“Are you done ranting and raving like a lunatic?” I looked up at her.
“Maybe?” She cocked her head and folded her arms. “I guess it depends on the next words that come out of your mouth.”
Honestly, I was too scared to say anything.
“Marley, listen,” I calmly spoke. “You just can’t barge in here and say you’re moving in.”
“The hell I can’t. If you want me gone, you’ll have to call the cops.”
“Fine.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and began to dial 9-1-1, then stopped and threw it on the couch. “We need to discuss this like the adults we are. Come and sit down.”
“You go eat your dinner first, and I’ll sit out on the terrace so I don’t throw up again.”
“I no longer have an appetite.” I stood up, walked over to the kitchen table, and tossed the Thai food. Taking the bag from the trash can, I tied it shut, walked over to the trash shoot, and threw it down to quickly get the smell out of the house.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.
“The last thing I need is you throwing up all over the place.” A smirk crossed my lips. “I do need some fresh air, so you go sit out on the terrace, and I’ll join you in a minute.”
