26

26
Arlene
The moment Mirela left my office, I dashed into the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before I lost everything I had been holding in.
My stomach churned violently as I emptied its contents, the overpowering stench of grilled mackerel and garlic sauce still clinging to my senses.
My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the sink, breathing heavily. I couldn’t shake the thought - Mirela must have suspected something.
There was no other explanation for her choice of food. She had always been cunning, always a step ahead in her relentless games.
Fuck that old witch!
The door burst open behind me, and Matilda hurried in, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. “Miss Gomez!” she exclaimed, rushing to my side. Her hand gently patted my back. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I shook my head, forcing myself to stand upright. My legs felt shaky, but I managed to steady myself. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Matilda said, concern etched across her face as she studied me. “I can have Mrs. Gomez restricted from coming here if you want.”
I raised my hands. “No need. I’m pretty sure she will never be coming back here.”
Matilda cursed, gritting her teeth in annoyance. “That woman is nothing but trouble.”
“I just need a moment.” I turned on the faucet, letting the cold water splash over my hands before splashing some on my face. The chill helped me regain a semblance of control.
Matilda handed me a towel, and I wiped my face, avoiding her probing gaze. Once I felt composed enough, I flushed the sink, ensuring no evidence of my weakness remained.
With my head held high, I strode back into my office, Matilda trailing behind me.
As soon as I sat down, she asked, “What did Mirela do this time?”
“She brought a dish into my office,” I said, my voice laced with irritation. “A nauseating one— grilled mackerel with garlic sauce pasta. The smell alone was unbearable.”
The thought of it made me so sick. I wished I had punched her in the face.
Matilda’s eyes widened. “She actually brought that into your office? Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I muttered, standing and walking to the glass wall that overlooked the city skyline. My reflection stared back at me, pale and drawn. “She’s spiteful, that’s why. This used to be her office, and she wanted to rub it in my face.”
“But,” Matilda hesitated, “do you think she knows?”
The question struck me hard like a thunderbolt, heavy and foreboding. I stiffened, my hands balling into fists.
Does she know?
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been careful. I’ve hidden it well.”
Even when she was here, I had held on tight - so tight - until I was sure the door was shut behind her.
“You have,” Matilda agreed, her tone reassuring. “There’s no way she could know. She probably just wanted to irritate you. That’s how she operates.”
“Maybe,” I murmured, my gaze drifting to the city lights. “But what if it wasn’t random? What if she did know? How else would she have chosen such a specific meal to bring here?”
“She could have guessed,” Matilda said, though even she sounded unsure. “But it’s just as likely she didn’t. Don’t let her get into your head.”
I sighed, rubbing my temple. “You’re right. Either way, I need something to help with this nausea. I can’t afford to throw up at tonight’s welcome party. If Mirela suspects even a hint of what’s going on, she’ll use it against me. And that will ruin everything.”
Matilda nodded solemnly. “I’ll get you something. You’ve kept your composure so far. She doesn’t know anything yet.”
“She can’t know,” I said firmly, my tone laced with determination. “Because if the truth comes out...” I hesitated, swallowing hard. “If people find out I’m pregnant and I can’t name the father...”
“You’ll lose everything,” Matilda finished softly.
I didn’t respond. She didn’t need me to.
The truth was bitter, a reality I couldn’t escape. If word got out that I was carrying an illegitimate child, my position, my reputation, everything I had worked for, would crumble. The only way to avoid complete ruin was to name the father - a man I wanted nothing to do with.
And there’s no way in hell I’ll let the world know I had anything to do with him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s dead to me. He never existed.
Matilda placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “We’ll keep this under wraps, Miss Gomez. No one has to know.”
“Good,” I said, my voice firm again. “Make sure of it.”
The clock ticked on, and the day slowly gave way to evening. Matilda glanced at her watch. “I’ll head to your house with the dress for tonight. We’ll meet there before the party.”
“Fine,” I said, not turning from the window.
As she moved to leave, Matilda paused, hesitating at the door. She turned back to me, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“Miss Gomez,” she said carefully, “have you thought about taking a trip? Somewhere secluded? It might help avoid any potential controversy.”
I raised a brow, finally looking at her. “A trip?”
She nodded. “Somewhere far, like the Maldives. It would give you space and keep prying eyes off you for a while—at least until after you had your baby.”
The idea wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “That’s... not a bad suggestion,” I admitted.
Matilda’s eyes lit up with relief. “I can book a flight for next month. To make it believable, I’ll say you’re working on opening a new branch there. That way, no one will question your absence.”
“Do it,” I said decisively. “And don’t tell anyone I’m leaving. Not yet, anyway. My father will be the only one who knows, and I’ll tell him tonight. No one must know the location either.”
“Understood,” Matilda said, her hand on the door handle.
She was about to leave when she paused again, her expression thoughtful.
“Miss Gomez,” she said slowly, “how about you hire someone to play the role of your child’s father? Just in case Mirela pulls some kind of stunt.”
I blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”