In Love With My Bully-Chapter 83: Weight of a Choice

I wanted nothing more than to stay home, curled up in bed with Queen, but life refused to grant me that comfort. My body ached in ways I couldn’t explain, I was tired for absolutely no reason but I had to push forward. Victor had called for a meeting, and I still had to take Queen to see her grandfather.

Richard still wasn’t home. Two months. His calls had dwindled to twice a week, his voice growing more distant with each conversation. I told myself I was fine. That I didn’t need him. That his absence was a blessing in disguise.

But deep down, I missed him. God help me, I missed him.

No matter how much he had hurt me, no matter how many nights I had spent lying awake, trying to erase his memory from my heart, I still wanted him here. I still needed him. Not for myself only, but for Queen. She deserved more than a father who existed only through phone calls. She needed to see him, to know him, to grow up with him present.

By the time I arrived at Victor’s new office, my body was drenched in sweat. The heat clung to me like a second skin, my blouse sticking uncomfortably to my back. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, trying to steady myself. My legs wobbled beneath me.

Victor’s office building wasn’t as grand as the one I had worked at for Numero Companies, but it was growing fast. He had secured a silent partner, someone who had invested generously, and business was booming. The clients were the powerful, the wealthy, the untouchable. Victor was on his way up, and I was genuinely happy for him. frёeωebɳovel.com

I walked past the empty receptionist’s desk and made my way into his office. He was on the phone, discussing an estate deal. When he saw me, he gave a quick wave and gestured toward a chair.

I sank into it immediately, relieved to take the weight off my legs. My entire body felt off, like I wasn’t entirely present in my own skin. I tried to recall if I had my morning coffee, but my mind was foggy, memories slipping through my grasp like sand.

I pressed my palm to my forehead. Was I feverish? No. Nothing.

Victor finished his call and turned his attention to me.

"Oooof, you look terrible," he said bluntly.

"I feel terrible," I admitted. I glanced toward the empty reception area. "I thought you would’ve hired a receptionist by now. The entrance is completely empty."

"She resumes on Monday," he said. "All staff will officially start that day. Which means we’re good to go for the launch of Verna." Excitement flickered in his eyes. "I was hoping you could suggest a date, one that would be convenient for you to submit a detailed profit prediction for the launch."

"Yeah... I’ll get started on that once I get home," I murmured.

Victor studied me carefully. "Your office is ready. It’s not as big as you’re used to, but I promise you’ll love it. Wanna come see?"

"Sure."

I tried to stand, but the moment I pushed myself up, the world tilted dangerously. My vision blurred, a wave of dizziness crashing over me like a violent tide.

Victor’s voice cut through the haze. "Nita, you don’t look too good. You look like you’re about to pass out."

"No... I..."

The words barely left my lips before my legs gave out. A sharp gasp escaped me as I felt myself slipping, my body betraying me entirely.

Victor was fast, his arms wrapping securely around my waist, keeping me from collapsing completely. And then, just like that, I broke.

Tears welled up, spilling over before I could stop them. I buried my face against his shoulder.

The warmth of his body made me ache in ways I hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge. It reminded me of what I had lost, of the man who should have been here instead.

I wasn’t crying because of Victor.

I was crying because Richard should have been here.

Richard should have been the one to catch me when I fell.

Richard should have been the one to tell me everything was going to be okay.

Richard should have been here to hold me.

But he wasn’t.

Victor’s grip tightened. "Benita, what’s going on?"

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

"Come on," he said. "I’m taking you to the hospital."

I wanted to protest but the fight had already left me.

I was too tired.

Too weak.

And worst of all, too broken to even pretend I was okay.

*****

When Dr. Sanders gave me the news, my brain refused to process her words.

Pregnant?

Is the universe fucking with me right now?

I stared at her, waiting for her to laugh and say it was a joke. But she didn’t. Her expression was calm and professional.

"What?!" My voice came out hoarse.

"You’re pregnant," she repeated.

A cold chill crawled up my spine even as my body burned with heat.

"Are you kidding me?" I shouted.

Dr. Sanders arched an eyebrow, "You really have to find a different approach to responding to pregnancy news."

Yeah I remember. I hadn’t been thrilled when I found out I was pregnant with Queen either. Back then, it had felt like a betrayal, like my body had been tricked into something I wasn’t ready for. Richard had orchestrated it. But at least, at least, back then, we were together. He was here.

We figured it out.

Together.

Now? We were divorced and he wasn’t even around.

I swallowed hard. "But... my baby isn’t even six months yet. I still breastfeed her. How can I be pregnant?"

Dr. Sanders sighed, "Breastfeeding doesn’t prevent pregnancy. As long as you’re sexually active..."

"Oh, God." My stomach lurched as realization slammed into me.

I felt sick.

Three months.

I was three months pregnant.

My mind flashed back to the last time Richard and I were together. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t a promise, it was desperation. A moment of weakness where old habits had taken over, where we had both pretended that nothing had changed. That we weren’t broken beyond repair. We needed to be together in the most intimate we knew so as to get through our grief.

And now, there was a baby growing inside me.

"Dr. Sanders, I can’t have this baby,"

She studied me carefully. "Isn’t it Mr. Numero’s?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "It is. But we’re divorced. He’s not even around. I have Queen to take care of, I just started working again. What the hell am I supposed to tell my boss? ’Hey, thanks for the job opportunity, but surprise I’m pregnant! Again!’"

Dr. Sanders folded her arms. "I think you should think about it."

My throat tightened. "There’s no time to think. I cannot do this."

The words tumbled out too fast.

Dr. Sanders didn’t react. She just nodded slowly. "Come back next week," she said. "If you haven’t changed your mind, then I’ll schedule you for an abortion."

That word.

Abortion.

It hit me like a slap.

I blinked. Putting a name to my decision made my chest constrict.

A baby.

Richard’s baby.

Queen’s sibling.

Could I really do this? Could I really erase this life before it even had a chance?

Dr. Sanders gave me a soft, knowing look, as if she understood the storm raging inside me. "Think about it," she repeated before walking out of the room.

I pressed a shaking hand to my stomach. My mind was screaming at me that this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

But my heart...?

*****

Victor took me to a café after we left the hospital. The world outside felt muted, every sound muffled by the roaring thoughts in my head. Three months pregnant. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I had spent the past week feeling drained but I had never expected this.

I ordered a cup of black tea, hoping the bitterness would anchor me. Victor ordered coffee, his sharp eyes never leaving me. I could feel the weight of his concern.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked.

I nodded mechanically.

"Doctor Sanders said it was stress. I thought you were working from home. Is there anything else you’re working on? Is the workload too much... I can get you an assistant..."

"I’m pregnant," I blurted out before I lost my nerve.

The words hung in the air. My fingers curled tightly around my cup.

Victor stared at me. Then his face twisted, anger flashing across his features. "Son of a bitch. Richard!"

Yeah. He just said exactly what I had been thinking.

My throat felt tight. "What am I supposed to do?" My voice cracked.

"What do you mean, what are you supposed to do?" he asked. "It’s his child too. You figure it out together."

"I can’t tell him. First, we’re divorced."

"That didn’t stop the two of you from fucking each other, did it?" he spat.

"Victor, focus."

He gripped the edge of the table. I could see the way his jaw tensed.

"Second," I continued, "I... I wanted to get away from the Numero name. From everything that came with it."

Victor let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, you’re off to a great start. The first step to that was getting back in his bed." His sarcasm stung.

"Victor..." My voice was barely a whisper.

He sighed. "I’m sorry. I just... you won’t understand."

I looked down at my tea. "I should apologize. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear from me." And it wasn’t. We both knew he wanted more, but I had nothing left to give.

He let out a breath. "No, no... it’s fine. What do you want to do?"

I bit my lip. "Doctor Sanders asked me to think about it. If it’s what I want, she can schedule an abortion next week."

Victor leaned back in his chair. The silence stretched between us.

"I think she’s right," he finally said. "Don’t make any decisions now. Be sure it’s something you won’t regret somewhere along the line."

I nodded numbly. Everything was a mess.