Page 10 of Broken Princess

I take a deep breath to soothe my nerves, and because I'm so annoyed that I can hardly even think straight. "Okay, so getting away from you is a bonus. I don't know what you think this is going to accomplish. I'm just going to change my number."

He falls silent, and I can tell despite his attempts to seem casual about the whole thing, he's more upset than he's letting on. Angrier, at any rate. I refuse to allow myself to believe that he actually has feelings about my leaving that go beyond possessiveness and ego. Maybe horniness, since his favorite person to call on a whim isn't going to be local anymore.

"You're too smart for this, Amelia," he finally says, his tone growing stern. "This is unsafe. But you already know that."

I roll my eyes, because he's not saying anything I didn't expect already. "No?"

"No," he says, even though I'm sure he knows it's not a genuine question. "Your father has enemies. A lot of them. You can't just run away from who you are. There are people who would be more than happy to use you against him. And me, for that matter."

"You have a point," I say dryly. "Or at least, you would, if either of you were public about my relation to you, but I guess I'm lucky that's not the case, aren't I?"

He falls silent again, and I can practically hear him seething. He knows I'm right. "It's still possible to figure out. And it's only a matter of time before someone does. Which is why you need to tell me where the fuck you are."

"You really think that's going to work?" I ask. "You really think I'm just going to go all this way, and to all the trouble I went to just to leave, and then tell you where you I am so you can what, rescue me?"

"You haven't hung up yet," he reasons. "That means there's some part of you that doesn't want to. Some part of you that doesn't want me to let you go."

I bristle at his words, and the way they sting, I know there is probably a grain of truth in them. I'm just not about to admit that. Not even to myself.

"You're right," I finally say. "Big mistake."

"Amelia, don't—"

I hang up before he can finish telling me not to. I'm not going to take orders from him. It's bad enough that my father thinks he can show up out of nowhere and start bossing me around.

Lorenzo is right, though. Once again, I made the mistake of giving him even the slightest opening, and I already regret it. I just don't think I'm strong enough to deal with the temptation of hearing his voice, and not at least entertaining the delusional thought of going back to him. Now that would be the biggest mistake of all.

Long after I hang up, I still feel the effects of the call. I hate that I let him get to me like this, but it is what it is. I need to do something to clear my head. Anything to keep myself from dwelling on this.

Of course, I also need to get my number changed as soon as possible, but that's going to have to wait until after my appointment. I finally scheduled one with an OB/GYN in the area, so I can make sure I'm staying on top of everything health-wise. The stress is enough of an issue, which is all the more reason I need to kick all thoughts of Lorenzo to the curb.

Including how I would like to just kick him, period.

It's only a ten-minute bus ride to the doctor's office, and as nice as the idea of a walk sounds, considering it's a pretty nice day, my feet are already feeling swollen. The joys of pregnancy.

At least I won't have to continue hiding my bump here, since it doesn't matter who knows I'm pregnant. I'm sure I'll get a few judgmental looks here and there if and when people find out I'm a single mother, and a young one at that, but they'll find a way to live. I'm not going to let my child feel like an imposition, or something that needs to be kept secret. Not even now.

The appointment doesn't take long, and the doctor isn't exactly as friendly as the one back in New York, but she reassures me that everything is fine with me and the baby, and that's all I can really ask for.

As I head back out onto the sidewalk, I tuck the appointment reminder card into my bag. It won't be too long before I find out the baby's sex.

I still can't believe how long it's been. Hell, most days, I still can't believe I'm pregnant, but as the physical evidence grows more obvious each time I look in the mirror, it's getting a little easier to believe.

The cravings aren't helping. I'm starving, yet again, and there’s a falafel place not too far from my apartment that's calling my name. I'm actually not feeling too bad by the time I get out of the doctor's office, and I would take being a little achy later over the various smells of take-out containers on the bus any day, so I decide to walk. It's a nice area, and the weather is more than beautiful, so I figure the fresh air will do me good.

And it does.

I'm only a block away from home when the sight of a happy couple walking across the street catches my eye. She's leaning on his arm as he recounts some funny anecdote from his day while pushing a baby stroller, and I feel a bittersweet smile tugging on my lips.

Must be nice, just being with the person you love. Knowing that he's going to be there for you, and your baby, no matter what.

I feel a twinge of guilt for the fact that I know I'm not going to be able to give that life to my child, but all I can do is promise that I'll give him or her a better life than the one I had.

I always knew my mom did her best, but ever since I found out I was pregnant, I've had a new appreciation for just how hard it must have been for her.

I'm about to cross the street toward my apartment building when I get a feeling that something isn't right. I don't even know what it is, exactly, or what makes me look up right when I do, but sure enough, there's a guy in a dark gray suit watching me from across the way.

Instinctively, I look away, since making eye contact seems like it would just draw even more attention.

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