Chapter 32 The Beginning Growing Inside Me
POV Scarlett:
I smile at my four boyfriends, unable to believe they’ve once again convinced me to wander into the middle of the woods. Asher pinches my leg, making me yelp in surprise, and Logan gives us a stern look, shaking his head from side to side. I stick my tongue out at him and am immediately rewarded with a slap on the ass, making me scream again—this time from joy.
I love being with them. I love our fun moments, our teasing, our moments of love. I can no longer deny what my heart has been begging to shout to the world.
“I love you!” I shouted, making the four of them stop walking and turn their eyes to me. “I love you,” I said again, and the smile that spread across Asher’s lips made me run and jump into his arms.
His mouth was on mine in seconds, and soon enough the others were surrounding us, reminding me once again who my heart belongs to.
My heart belongs to the Hawthornes—and it always will.
“I still love you,” I whispered, eyes closed.
My eyes burn, because I know it was a dream—just one more among the many I’ve had since I left without looking back. Never in my life have I felt as lonely as I do now. I don’t want to open my eyes and face my new reality—to see that my mother is no longer with me, that my father threw me out, and that I now live in the house of men I don’t even know. Especially since one of them is the impaler from the club.
I have no reason left to stay standing. Nothing to make me keep believing in a new beginning. Everything in my life changed too fast. I tried to adapt to those changes, but it was useless. All I want now is to keep my eyes closed, hoping that when I open them again, all of this will have been nothing more than a nightmare—a terrible, heartbreaking nightmare.
“Is she still delirious?” Damian’s voice made my whole body tense.
I thought I was alone. “Wouldn’t it be better to take her to the hospital?”
Take me to the hospital? Why?
Sure, I haven’t been feeling great these last few days, but the dizziness must be because I haven’t been resting enough, and the nausea—I’m sure it’s from the smell of frying oil I can’t stand anymore. Taking me to the hospital sounds like a huge overreaction.
“As I said, she seems only a bit dehydrated and slightly anemic. Once the blood tests come back, I’ll be able to say for sure.”
Blood tests?
I open my eyes and find four men looking at me. Four I recognize immediately, and the other is wearing white, tending to the bandage on my arm.
“Hello, Scarlett. How are you feeling?” The doctor greets me kindly, and I blush under all the attention. “My name is Darren Baker. I’m the doctor taking care of you.” I nod, too embarrassed to speak, aware that all eyes are on me. “Now that you’re awake, shall we talk?” He glances from me to the others. “Would you prefer they step outside?” I bite my lip and shake my head. I don’t want the bastard’s eyes drilling into me any more than they already are. “Why don’t you tell me how you’ve been feeling these last few weeks?”
I ponder his question, trying to assess how I’ve been, and to put it bluntly—I’ve felt like shit. But I doubt that’s the answer the doctor wants. I think about everything I’ve been feeling and quickly tell him.
“I’ve been really tired, sometimes a little dizzy, nauseous... The nausea, I think, is from the smell of the oil I use to fry the fries.” Saying that makes me think I might not even have a job anymore. “I work at a diner... or worked. And lately, the smell of frying has been making me sick.” I shrug, and the doctor nods, listening carefully.
“Anything else?”
I frown, thinking if there’s another symptom. “No.”
“Okay,” he clears his throat, giving a quick look at the men silently listening to everything. “Are you up to date?”
“Up to date? Up to date with what?” I ask, confused.
The man clears his throat again before raising his head to look at me.
“Your period. I mean, is your cycle on schedule?”
It’s as if an avalanche collapses inside my head—suddenly, all my symptoms make sense. Every time I vomited, the fatigue, the nausea. I’ve been through so much lately that the last thing on my mind was that a late period might have something to do with it. I don’t even need to hear the doctor’s final diagnosis. I already know what’s wrong with me.
I’m pregnant.
I close my eyes, unwilling to imagine how much more complicated things are about to get. I don’t know if I still have a job, but I know I no longer have a home to return to. Having a baby requires so much—things I won’t be able to afford. Even if Mrs. Arlete doesn’t throw me out, what I make isn’t enough for what a baby needs. I’m so screwed. How am I going to get out of this?
“Scarlett?” The doctor’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Are you feeling anything right now?”
I open my eyes, and the intensity I find in Damian’s gaze makes me swallow hard. I know he helped me, but now I don’t know if he’ll still want to help a pregnant woman. Especially one who’s carrying his brother’s child. I risk a glance at the impaler—and he’s staring right back at me.
He knows.
“I... I’m pregnant?” I ask, just to confirm what I already know.
“Tell me, have you had unprotected sex that might have resulted in a pregnancy?” The image of a certain impaler pinning my face against a bathroom door while thrusting hard and fast into me flashes through my mind. I close my eyes, remembering when he told me the condom had broken.
“We can wait for confirmation from the blood test,” the doctor continues, “or you can take a pharmacy test...”
“I’m going to the pharmacy right now,” the impaler’s voice cuts in, interrupting the doctor. He rushes out the door, and I stay quiet, watching everything unfold before me.
“I need a shot of whiskey,” Damian mutters, leaving right behind him.
“I’ll... go downstairs to make lunch,” Noah blurts out before darting from the room.
Liam says nothing—he just leaves.
I sigh, resting my hand on my belly. I never really thought about when I’d want to become a mother, but I always knew that someday I’d have many children. And because of my polyamorous relationship—which, unfortunately, isn’t well accepted by most people—I’d put that dream of a big family on hold, content just to live my love with my four boyfriends.
Now, with a tiny being growing inside me, I couldn’t care less about what people think. This baby isn’t born of the love I shared with my ex-boyfriends—but it will be loved just the same, if not more.
After everything I went through with the Hawthornes and losing my mother, I just wanted a fresh start. One without tears, without feeling like a disappointment to anyone. And now, I realize that maybe the new beginning I’ve been longing for is the one growing inside me.