CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CAROLINE
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
I came out of Lovett's bathroom holding the test result in my trembling hands.
All the strips said the same thing.
Still, I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't. My body felt foreign to me, like it was no longer mine.
Heaven knows I do not care. I was not born yesterday.
I know the pills that can take this thing out of me in less than a day, and I know exactly where to get them. I'll take them first thing tomorrow morning, before dawn, before fear has time to talk me out of it.
I looked up and found Lovett watching me closely.
"I know that look," she said softly. "I know the result. And, unfortunately, I know the next step you're already planning. But before you make any rash move, let me ask—how old are you again?"
"Why? You know I'm thirty-eight."
"Good," she said simply, crossing her arms. "You're a lucky woman, Caroline. I know you didn't plan this. Nobody does at this age. But luck doesn't always come in gold wrapping. Sometimes it comes in a test strip."
"Lucky?" I frowned, confused.
She smiled, a sad, knowing smile. "We get so scared of what could go wrong that we don't see what might go right. Women like us—busy fighting to stand, to survive—we rarely get another chance like this."
I sat down slowly. "I don't understand what you mean."
"When was the last time you were pregnant?" she asked.
I tried to think. "Maybe twenty-five… or twenty-six."
"That's over ten years ago," she said. "All the stress, the pills, the late nights, the heartbreaks—and your body still gave you this chance. Don't throw it away so quickly."
I swallowed hard. "Who said I'm pregnant?" I murmured, looking away.
"We both know you are," she said, stepping closer. "And I'm begging you—think carefully before you make your decision."
I shook my head quickly. "No. You don't understand. I can't keep his baby. Any other man, maybe, but not Nat's. Never his."
"Caroline…"
"He doesn't want me, Lovett. He never did. And he'll never want me to keep this baby."
"This child is yours as much as it is his," she said gently.
"I don't have the money or even a place to raise a child," I countered, trying to steady my voice. "This is not a story that ends well."
Lovett sighed deeply, then said something that made my heart stop.
"If you decide to keep this baby, I'll be your husband in every way that matters—except one. I'll be there for you, for the child. I'll be the other parent. You can be a full-time mum if you want; I'll take care of the rest."
My mouth fell open. "God! Lovett, do you know what you're saying?"
"I do," she said quietly. "But there's one condition—Nat must know. He must be told."
I shook my head violently. "That's one thing I can't promise. I don't want to see that man again, not even by accident."
She came closer, her eyes calm but firm. "He deserves to know, Caroline. Not because he's a saint, but because this child will one day ask about their father. And that child deserves truth."
I dropped heavily onto the sofa. "I can't believe I'm even considering this. I must be out of my mind."
Lovett sat beside me. "You're not mad, dear. You're human."
I exhaled shakily. "What if he wants the baby but not me? What if he fights for custody? You know he has the money, the power—"
"He won't," she interrupted. "He's not a responsible man. Tell me, what responsible man treats a woman the way he treated you?"
Her words stung, but I couldn't argue. She was right.
"Still," I murmured, "if he fights and wins, at least the child will have more than I can give. I'll lose, but I'll still have something—knowing I gave life to someone. That's more than I have now."
Lovett looked at me, her eyes softening. "You think too far ahead sometimes. You carry every possible pain in your head before it even happens."
I gave a small, humorless laugh. "If I can handle the worst, then I can survive the rest."
She smiled faintly. "You're too bad. You thought all this just now?"
"Maybe," I said, looking away. "Maybe I've been thinking like this all my life."
"What if he wants to be in the baby's life?" she asked. "You can't hate him forever."
"I hate him enough to never forgive him," I snapped.
Lovett arched a brow. "You hate him enough to open your legs for him in the parking lot, too?"
I froze.
"You're not a slut, Caroline. You were drunk, confused, emotional—but there's a spark between you two that neither of you can deny. You'll get over him, or you won't. But the baby shouldn't pay the price."
I closed my eyes. "Lovett, you always know how to hit where it hurts."
She laughed softly. "It's called friendship."
We sat in silence for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts. Then she said quietly, "Do you remember when Queen wanted to sell me off to that rich client of hers? You stood by me, even when I didn't deserve it."
"That girl was a mess," I said, smiling faintly.
"She still is," Lovett chuckled. "But I learned something from that time. You were never part of her games, and I resented you for it. But later, I realized your strength was the only thing that helped me pull out before she ruined me completely."
She paused, her smile fading. "But maybe it was too late. I'm forty-two, no child, no husband. Just me and memories."
"Don't say that," I said quickly, standing again. "You can still have both."
She shook her head slowly. "My last test said I can't conceive anymore. After Kim saw the result, he stopped trying. I understand why."
I felt my chest tighten. "Lovett…"
She waved it off lightly. "It's fine. Maybe that's why I feel this way now. Maybe I'm hoping you'll let me share in something I can't have myself. A family, even if it's borrowed."
I was quiet for a long while. "I'll do this—for you, for me, for the baby. But if I ever mend things with Nat, you'll still be part of our life. That's my promise."
Lovett smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. "If that ever happens, make sure he pays first."
I laughed softly. "He'll pay. One way or another."
She chuckled. "Then you'll pay, and he'll pay again, and the war will go on. Love is a dangerous currency, dear."
I shook my head, laughing despite myself. "When did you become this deep?"
"Since life taught me the cost of bad decisions," she said simply.
I sat again, exhausted but calmer.
"Okay," I said at last. "I'll think about it. But I want you to know—this child is ours. I'll make him understand that."
Lovett smiled, her eyes glistening. "Thank you, dear."
We hugged for a long moment, two women clinging to each other against the storm neither of them had planned.
Then she pulled back gently, and I walked to the seat I once vacated, sinking into it again — this time, not as a woman defeated, but as one beginning to make peace with her fate.