I walk down the hallway to Zane’s apartment, nervousness creeping up my spine. Why the fuck am I being such a wuss? I need to snap out of it, and fucking quickly because I’m standing at his door giving myself an internal lecture.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself for anything and everything. Being prepared just comes with the territory of being an awesome badass chick, right?

I knock on the door and wait for him to answer. I’m met with silence, so I ring the doorbell, thinking that maybe he can’t hear me knocking.

I don’t hear anyone moving on the other side. Maybe he’s not home, or he’s sleeping so he can’t hear me knocking. I thank my lucky stars that by now, in our relationship built on the foundation of fantastic lovemaking, I have a key to his place.

I place it in the deadbolt and turn the knob, grateful that it works because I’ve never had to use it before. I step inside and enter his kitchen.

“Zane?” I call out and wait for him to appear, but he doesn’t.

I walk down the hallway towards his bedroom.

“Zane?”

His bed is made and there is an open magazine lying on the comforter. A wet towel is laying beside the magazine on the bed and I cringe. There’s nothing I fucking hate more than a wet towel on a bed.

I pick it up and bring it to the bathroom, placing it back on the rack where it belongs so it can dry. Fucking men, even the rich charming ones are still sloppy pigs who need female guidance.

I shake my head and chuckle with the irony of it all.

I guess he’s not home, and I walk back to the front door. I could stick around and snoop, but I have shit to do today too.

I think about taking off my clothes and sending him crazy selfies of me in his apartment doing weird shit, but then come to my senses. I’m never one to send anyone a naked picture of myself. You never know where it might end up.

Before I leave, my bladder tugs at me again. If this is the way pregnancy is going to be, then I’m in for hell. I’m not sick yet, thank goodness and I pray that it’s not on its way.

I’m a terrible at throwing up, and I can’t imagine how women go through multiple pregnancies dealing with the burden of morning sickness.

I walk to the powder room just off the living area and turn on the light. I’m surprised to see that it’s clean in there, and tidy. Maybe he keeps up the places in his apartment where he knows company and visitors might lurk.

I check myself out in the mirror and hold my flat belly, imagining what it’s going to look like once it swells up. I don’t allow myself to anticipate things like this too much just in case I never get pregnant at all. Now, I can do it as much as I want, confident that it’ll be coming to life soon.

I smile at my reflection and relieve my demanding as fuck bladder, flush, and walk back the way I came. I decide to write him a silly note, letting him know a ‘sexy intruder’ came into his house and ‘violated’ his things.

I’m sure he’ll appreciate it, so I look around for a piece of paper and a pen.

That’s when everything crumbles.

I notice some documents with my name printed on the top, so obviously, curiosity is going to kill the cat here and I pick them up.

It doesn’t count as being invasive or nosy if your own name is on something, right?

Forgetting all about my fun note, my mind switches to horror as I scan the pages. Words fly out at me and slice through my heart like a dagger.

Negotiation deal. I read more, desperately searching for something to help me make sense of this. Backing out of the Baby Batter contract for a larger lump sum agreement.

What the fuck is this shit?

Fresh tears fill my eyes and spill over, wetting the documents. I don’t fucking care if I’m ruining them. Apparently, Zane is in another deal with someone else to where he’s going to get more money with if he backs out of the contract with me.

Just when I think things can’t get any fucking worse, I hear the door open, and I turn to face the culprit. The heartbreaker.

It’s not until I’m dealing with the sting of betrayal that I realize how much I really do love Zane, and he’s fucking shattering my life into a million pieces right in front of me.

“Piper?” His eyes are surprised, and then his face drains of color when he notices the documents in my hands.

“I’m guessing you aren’t expecting me to be here?” I snarl and bite through the pain.

I’m devastated, because I actually fucking allowed a man to have my heart. And now he’s stomping all over it.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his tone has worry in it.

“You are playing me after all, and you were from the start,” I spit out at him.

He shakes his head, in apparent denial.

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t really love me, do you?” I sob.

“Of course I do,” he says and takes a step closer to me.

I back away.

“Don’t fucking come near me!” I shout.

“Piper, let me explain…” he trails off.

“I think it’s perfectly clear,” I yell. “Here are your precious papers to get out of the deal with me. I know what I am now to you, just another fucking deal to make and then leave me screwed in the end.”

I throw the papers in the air and they flutter around and land everywhere, like particles of dust symbolizing our broken relationship.

“Piper, wait, please…let me explain!”

Zane’s voice is frantic but I shake my head. I’m pregnant with his baby and he’s going to dump me for something or someone better.

I run from his house, storming out as tears blur my vision and my path. I can’t believe he has the nerve to hurt me like this, but I’m just as angry at myself for believing he’s trustworthy. I should have trusted my own heart and known that all men are fucking jerks.

I try to compose myself before I get on the elevator. I frantically punch the down button before Zane can get to me, because he’s calling my name and burning my soul. Just before he makes his way to the elevator, the doors shut me in, and I’m safe.