Chapter 5: Choices and Consequences

I rolled around on the bed, opened an app to search for abortion info, and booked an appointment at a nearby clinic.

My thumb hovered over the screen, deleting and retyping my info twice before I hit submit.

The appointment went through just as Derek finished his shower.

I closed the app and opened my game, wanting to turn and look at him, but didn’t dare.

My mind was a mess.

After my game character died again, Derek hugged me from behind.

He kissed my neck, making me squirm.

“Babe, you peeked at me twelve times just now.”

Was it that many?

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I was just looking. Not just looking, actually—I want to kiss you too.”

I kissed him.

Derek was very kissable.

His lips were soft, a little cool.

The more we kissed, the hotter they got.

He liked me making the first move, then he’d take over.

He kissed fiercely.

I gazed at him, tracing his brows and eyes with my fingertips.

Mm, so handsome. Great body too.

With parents like us, the kid would be gorgeous, right?

His touch made my skin tingle, but all I could think about was the secret I was hiding.

I leaned against his chest, panting. “What do you think about kids born out of wedlock?”

He hesitated, jaw tight, then tried to laugh it off. “I don’t really like that.”

Oh.

Better not think about the baby.

I’m an illegitimate child myself.

My kid would be the illegitimate child of an illegitimate child.

He’d hate it to death.

I mused, “What if you had a kid out of wedlock?”

“I wouldn’t.”

I pressed, “But what if you did?”

He grabbed my wrist, pinning it above my head.

“Get rid of it.”

I was curious. “How would you do that?”

“Make the mother and child disappear together.”

Before I could even process that, he ripped open my pajamas.

His voice was husky: “Babe, I don’t like these hypotheticals.”

Derek pinched my chin and kissed me again, biting my lips until I was dizzy.

“If you keep making up scenarios, I’ll kill you.”

Me:

Is he a psycho? Always threatening to kill me.

I blanked out. Something felt off.

“Wait, wait…”

Where was his hand going…

I remembered—pregnant women can’t do this.

I looked up at him, pitiful: “I’m not feeling well today. Can we do something else?”

The bedroom carpet was super soft.

I got out of bed, half-kneeling on the carpet, looking up at him.

But Derek picked me up, frowning as he touched my forehead. “Where do you feel bad?”

He glanced at the date and pulled me into his arms.

“Your period’s late this month. Is your stomach uncomfortable?” He wrapped me in a blanket. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen.”

I stopped him.

“No, no, it’s not pain.”

He stared at me for a long time, making sure I wasn’t hurting, before finally giving up on the medicine.

His warm hand massaged my belly.

Even though I didn’t have cramps, it felt nice.

I got sleepy and asked, “Don’t you want me to help you?”

He bit my ear, a little harder than usual.

“If you feel bad, just sleep. Don’t be greedy.”

Me: …

I’m not greedy.

Don’t talk nonsense.

I drifted off, wrapped up in the thick comforter, the dull hum of city traffic outside my window. His fingers traced slow circles on my stomach, and for a few minutes, I pretended we were just any other couple—no secrets, no lines crossed, no hidden pink test in the trash.