Chapter 77: Mushrooms.

The next morning, Dua woke up first, cocooned in Steven's embrace. A soft smile crept onto her face as her fingertips traced across his features, memorizing every curve and line of his face. With her heart racing, she leaned closer, pausing just above his lips. She planted a gentle kiss, but was jolted by Steven's voice, his eyes still closed.

"You really can't stay quiet."

Startled, Dua quickly straightened up and turned away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Finally opening his eyes, Steven looked at her with playful mischief. "Stealing kisses from me," he teased, a smirk dancing on his lips.

Dua scoffed, "Don't get ahead of yourself. Why would I steal kisses from you?"

"Yeah, you're right," Steven replied, sitting up. "You shouldn't steal kisses from me; you take them whenever you please."

Her heart raced, and she swallowed, the blush deepening as she averted her gaze again.

"Seriously, when will you stop getting embarrassed during our intimate moments? You're carrying my child now, for crying out loud," he said, a mixture of amusement and affection in his tone.

Ignoring his comment, Dua slipped out of the room, leaving him chuckling behind her. She stepped into the kitchen, where Shane and her siblings were already bustling about, the morning energy palpable. They greeted her warmly, and she moved toward the coffee machine, eager for her morning ritual.

"What are you doing?" Denise asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Making coffee, obviously," Dua replied, only to be greeted by a chorus of "no" that startled her.

"You're not allowed to take in anything that contains caffeine at this stage," Shane said firmly.

Denise took her hand, leading her to a chair at the dining area. "Come sit here," "Des, get her a cup of tea." she ordered.

"On it!" Desmond called, flashing a thumbs-up as he made his way to the kitchen counter.

Dua stood to head towards the refrigerator for a slice of cake, but Denise halted her. "Where are you going?"

"To get a slice of cake," Dua answered.

"Sit back, I'll get it for you," Denise insisted. So Dua sank into the chair, eyeing her sister with a mix of skepticism and amusement.

Desmond soon returned, placing a steaming cup of tea gently on the table in front of her.

"What's with y'all sudden excess niceness?" Dua inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Just trying to ease you and my little nephew off some stress," Desmond said with a warm smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Dua chuckled softly, "So that's it? And we don't even know if it's a niece or a nephew yet."

"I'm sure it'll be a son," Steven chimed in as he entered the kitchen, confidence radiating from him.

Dua grinned playfully, "What if it's a daughter?"

"No problem at all, as long as she takes after you," Steven teased, planting a soft kiss on Dua's cheek as he moved towards the center table.

"Ahem," Desmond cleared his throat, trying to remind everyone of their surroundings, "Just a friendly reminder, there are singles here." Dua's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson.

"Okay, hands off the deck everyone! The boss of the kitchen has arrived," Shane announced, raising his hands dramatically in surrender and stepping back from the center table.

Steven could only shake his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he got to work.

In about thirty minutes, Steven had laid out a quick breakfast on the table—breakfast burritos filled with scrambled eggs and cheese, served with steaming cups of coffee, and a soothing cup of tea for Dua.

As Dua inhaled the delicious aroma wafting through the air, a wave of nausea washed over her. She tried to brush it aside, determined to enjoy the meal, but after only two bites, she rushed out of the kitchen, a hand clamped over her mouth. Steven followed closely behind, a worried expression etched on his face.

By the time they reached the lobby, Dua could no longer hold it in and threw up heavily. Steven gently patted her back, his presence calming as she washed herself up. "What the heck did you put in the food?" Dua shot at him, frustration bubbling beneath her words.

"Normal ingredients," he replied, clearly bewildered.

"But this isn’t your first time of eating breakfast burritos," she added, trying to sort through the confusion.

"Yes... but why is it affecting me now?" She looked at Steven, both of them lost in a sea of uncertainty.

“Nothing is wrong with you, just your life as a pregnant woman is starting up,” Shane chuckled, walking toward them with a teasing grin.

“Welcome to motherhood,” he teased Dua, whose shoulders slumped as she let out a tired sigh, the weight of her new reality settling in.

They returned to the kitchen, where her siblings wore worried expressions. “Are you alright?” they chorused, concern etched on their faces.

“Yeah,” Dua nodded, though her voice lacked conviction. “Just confirmed that I'm really pregnant,” she sighed, and a wave of chuckles swept the room to lighten the mood.

Picking up her cutlery again, she prepared to dive back into her meal, but they all halted her.

“Why? I have to find out which ingredient made me nauseous so I can avoid it,” Dua insisted, a hint of determination in her voice.

“You don't have to do that; just steer clear of this meal from now on,” Steven said, trying to be practical as Dua shot him a sharp glare.

In a sudden burst of resolve, she began separating each ingredient, tasting them one by one with meticulous care. But when she sampled the mushroom, the nausea hit her like a freight train. Without a moment of hesitation, she dashed out of the room, retching again.

“That's it! I'm done with mushrooms!” she declared, her voice echoing down the hallway as she straightened up, determination etched on her face.

“Noted!” Steven chimed in, following her back to the kitchen with an air of support.

“Mushroom it is,” she announced to the others upon reentering.

“We copy that,” Desmond replied, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Sorry about that! Continue with your meal,” Steven said, trying to ease the tension.

“No, I'm done for now,” Dua objected, her tone firm.

“But you literally have nothing in your stomach now; you’ve thrown it all up,” he countered gently.

“My stomach's not completely empty; there’s a baby in there,” Dua teased, giving him a playful smirk.

“Dua!” Steven called in mock exasperation.

“Fine! I’ll eat something but definitely not now,” she said, turning to walk out of the kitchen.

Soon, she was back in the living room, fully dressed and ready for the day. “Where are you going?” Steven asked, glancing up from his phone.

“School,” Dua replied curtly, her expression remaining stoic.

“Stay back, I'm making arrangements to bring your professors here, so you won’t have to go anywhere,” Steven said, a proud smile on his face.

“Will you be bringing my coursemates too?” Dua raised an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm creeping into her voice.

“I can bring them all if that’s what you want,” Steven replied, his tone light-hearted.

“And why would you do that?” Dua shot back, crossing her arms.

“Because I’m your husband, and I don’t want you and our child stressed out,” Steven countered, his smile unwavering.

Dua rolled her eyes and stormed out of the house, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

As she stepped outside, she was taken aback by the large number of bodyguards waiting for her. “Knucklehead!!” Dua yelled, agitation rising in her chest.

“Right here,” Steven answered, appearing behind her.

“What’s all this?” She demanded, spinning to face him.

“Tightening your security,” he said with an easy smile. “You’re not alone anymore; it’s two of you now. One team for you and another for our baby,” he exclaimed, his eyes bright with concern.

Dua inhaled deeply, struggling to rein in her frustration. “The baby is still in me,” she reminded him, her voice tight.

“And that’s exactly why you need extra security. You’re fragile right now,” he cooed, gently fixing a loose strand of her hair.

“You know what? I’m outta here,” she declared, marching toward the car and slamming the door shut, the sound echoing in the stillness.

Steven could only shake his head and chuckle at her cute display of anger, a mixture of admiration and amusement overtaking him.

As the car drove away from the compound, Dua asked the chauffeur to change the route. “Drive to the hospital instead of school,” she instructed, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. She had no classes today anyway, and she wanted to follow through on Crystal’s advice.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Dua was greeted warmly by Steven’s personal doctor. The familiar aura of professionalism wrapped around them as he guided her to his office, a place filled with the gentle hum of medical equipment and the faint scent of antiseptic.

“Congratulations on your pregnancy, ma'am,” the doctor said, his voice calm and inviting. “I hope everything is going smoothly for you. Are you experiencing any difficulties or anything that might require immediate attention?”

Dua took a deep breath. “No, I’m fine. I’m actually here to talk about my husband,” she replied.

"How's his health?" She asked.

“Your husband is stable, ma’am,” he assured her, offering a sincere smile. “There’s no need for you to worry.”

Dua felt a wave of frustration wash over her. “Stop lying to me, doctor. I know about his condition... I know he has a hole in his heart.” Her voice trembled, each word heavy with dread.

The doctor’s expression shifted, his lips tightening slightly. He paused, measuring his response as if searching for the right words.

“All I need from you is just one answer,” she continued, her gaze locking onto his. “How long does my husband have left to live?”

The doctor exhaled slowly, the weight of the question palpable in the air. He retrieved Steven’s file, the familiar rustle of paper breaking the heavy silence. After a moment of deliberation, he faced her with sorrowful eyes. “I wish I had better news… but it appears he has only a week left.”