Page 233 of The Baby Bargain

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"Why? It's true."

I laugh a little louder. "Yeah, he's Caucasian."

"Anyone I know?"

"We're um…" God, how do I explain our arrangement? What we said? Or what I want it to be?

"Whoever he is, if he doesn't treat you right, send him to me."

"And you'll what, punch his lights out?"

"Please. I'm a doctor. I'm going to use a scalpel to inflict as much pain as possible."

"I'll consider that." It's a sweet offer. "I… um… I should go. I'm glad you're okay."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"I love—fuck, it's hard not saying that." His exhale flows through the speaker. "Take care."

"You too." I hang up. Drop my cell in my lap.

A million things flit through my head. All these visions of the life I was supposed to have.

Of the life I could have.

I hover over Chase's contact. Try to think of exactly what I'll say.

My stomach flutters.

Then it twists.

Then—

Oh God.

* * *

Why dothey call it morning sickness?

It's dinnertime.

Only dinner no longer holds any appeal. The thought of fish sauce makes me cringe. And not in the usualthat feels too much like a home I don't have anymorekind of way.

Not even in aoh my God, that smell is strong, did I just gut eight thousand fishkind of way.

In a whole—

Ugh…

A wave of nausea hits me. Is that seven or eight? Am I ever getting out of here?

I press my palm into the white wall. Suck a breath through my nose. Sitting next to the toilet isn't helping. It's too close to everything.

I try to stand, but another wave hits me.

Shit, Dad is out of town until Sunday. No, that's a good thing.

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