Page 95 of Ruthless Savior
It was only once. We only actually had sex once. It can’t be…
I reach up, touching my chest, and wince as I press my fingers against my breast. They’re sore—they have been for days. I haven’t been able to eat like usual. And now…
My hands shake as I count backwards, trying to remember dates, trying to convince myself this is just stress or something I ate. But the math keeps coming back to the same terrifying conclusion.
I need to talk to someone. I need.
My mom is just upstairs. But I feel instinctively as if I can’t talk to her about this yet. She has enough to worry about already, I don’t want to pile more on her. This place has been good for her, and I don’t want to risk anything setting her back right now.
So, for the first time since Ronan brought me back to his mansion, I do something that I know he wouldn’t be happy with me for. But I need to talk to someone right now. Someone who I can trust, who Iknow.
I lock myself in my bedroom and grab the phone Ronan left me with to contact him, and call Alicia, my fingers barely managing to dial her number.
She answers almost immediately. “Hello?”
Hearing her voice makes me momentarily weak in the knees with relief. I sink onto the edge of the bed, trying not to cry as I grip the phone. “Hey, Alicia.”
“Chip! Oh my god! I’ve been so worried about you. Whereareyou, or can you still not tell me?”
“I can’t tell you much. I’m in Ireland. I don’t know when I’ll be back. But I needed to talk to you.”
“Oh my god, please tell me you’re holed up in some Gothic mansion that your mysterious husband owns.”
I laugh aloud, sniffing back tears. “Kind of,” I admit. "Alicia, I need to ask you something, and I need you to not freak out."
She pauses for a moment before answering. "Okay, now I'm definitely freaking out. What's wrong?"
"If someone were to… hypothetically… think they might be pregnant, what would they do? Like, to find out for sure? Especially if they can’t just pop over to a pharmacy and get a test?"
The silence stretches so long I think the call has dropped. Then: "Leila, please tell me this is actually hypothetical."
I bite my lip. “Um.”
“Oh, shit.” Alicia goes quiet for a second. “Wait, is this not a good thing? You’re married, do you guys not want kids? I guess you’ve only been married a few days, and after what happened at the church, your husband seems to be…”
“Alicia.”
“Yeah. Okay. So not a good thing?”
“I don’t… we weren’t planning this. It’s… not a good time.” That’s the best I can manage. It feels wrong somehow to say aloud that thisisn’ta good thing, like I’m instantly damning whatever potential there is inside of me now, but I know Ronan won’t be happy. He stopped the last time to avoid exactly this, and here we are anyway.
“Can you get to a doctor?” Alicia asks after a moment. “How isolatedareyou, exactly?”
“I could get to a doctor.” I pause. “I could just say I’m not feeling well, and someone would make me an appointment and take me. I'm already forming a plan, though I hate how secretive this feels. But I need to be sure before I do anything else.
“Have you told Ronan yet?”
I shake my head as if she can see me. “No. Not yet. I want to be sure before…” I break off, my throat tightening up.
"Hey, breathe. One step at a time. Find out first, then we'll deal with whatever comes next. And Leila? Whatever happens, I'm here, okay? You're not alone in this." Alicia’s voice is comforting, soothing even. But it doesn’t change the fact that right now, I feel very alone. Alicia isn’t here, and I don’t want to burden my mom with this. And even if Ronan was here, he wouldn’t be picking out nursery colors when I told him.
I’m not sure what his reaction would be, actually, but I don’t think it would be good.
I sit on the bed for several long minutes before working up the courage to go downstairs and find Mrs. O’Brien. She looks at me a little curiously when I tell her that I don’t feel well and need to know who could make me a doctor’s appointment and take me there, and for a moment, I think she’s going to pry. But she just nods, telling me she’ll make some calls and let Colin get the logistics of getting me there handled.
Nerves swirl in my stomach as I consider the possibility that security might tell Ronan they’re taking me into Dublin for a doctor’s appointment. But all I’ve said is that I don’t feel well. Nothing about a pregnancy, and I doubt that’s the first thing that’ll come to his mind.
The drive to Dublin gives me far too much time to think. I stare out the window at the rolling green landscape, trying to imagine what I'll do if my fears are confirmed. Ronan was clear about not wanting complications, not wanting to risk a pregnancy that would complicate our temporary arrangement. Will he want me not to keep the baby? DoIwant to keep the baby? It’s not like a normal relationship where we could split, and I could just be a single mother, I realize. Ronan is a mafia boss. If I’m pregnant, I’m carrying his… well, hisheir, I suppose,which feels horribly archaic and strange, but I have a feeling he’ll see it that way.
