Chapter Eighteen
Paige
On Monday when I woke up, I was alone in Michael's penthouse again. This time, Rosa wasn't even there, and I assumed she must be out running errands. The place was kind of eerie when it was this silent, and I spared a thought to wonder what it would be like to be a kid, growing up in a place like this.
Of course, the kid would have any toys that it could ever want. And friends too, I was sure.
I felt a pang of guilt, though, remembering that I wouldn't be there to watch the baby grow up. Did a child need its mother? It seemed that we were short-changing the child either way: having grown up with two loving parents, I couldn't imagine a child growing up without either its mother or its father. Of course, I knew there were kids who were raised in that situation, but it didn't seem fair to force that upon this kid, not when Michael and I could presumably find some way to make it work between us, if we wanted to.
But that was just it: neither of us wanted to. No point in forcing it.
Are you sure you don't want to? I asked myself.
I shied away from the thought. I couldn't start considering whether or not I had feelings for Michael. There was a contract between us; that was all. We were both simply looking out for one another's needs. I got 2.5 million dollars, and Michael got an heir. Plus, we both got some rather good sex along the way.
I grinned, just thinking about the sex. I wasn't afraid to admit that it was really good between Michael and I. Definitely the best sex I had ever had. I knew part of it was physical attraction. Michael was undeniably handsome, and every time he so much as looked at me, I felt almost as though I'd combust. When he touched me, well. I ached for him.
But I had to admit, Michael's penthouse apartment, although enormous, looked like it had been pulled from some design catalogue. The place was sterile, and it wasn't the kind of place that you'd imagine putting up finger-painted artworks or family pictures. To leave a baby here, whether it was my first-born or my second-born, felt almost like I was abandoning it.
Maybe I could keep the baby, instead of Michael.
There was the stipulation that I had had put in the contract, after all: if we got to the end of this process and I couldn't give up the child, I got to keep it. Of course, the contract went on to say that in that event, I had to give birth to a second baby, and that baby would be Michael's heir. But if I was unfit to have another child, surely he couldn't find fault with me. I would just have to convince the doctor to tell him that I couldn't have any more children.
But all of this was another one of those thoughts that I couldn't even consider. Michael might be giving me 2.5 million dollars, but I knew that money wouldn't last forever. It wouldn't be enough to give the kid everything that it had ever dreamed of. There was no denying that the kid would have a better quality of life if Michael was its sole caregiver.
Especially since Michael had the time to devote to the kid. Working nights might be all right now, and even after the child was born. But what about when the kid started going to school, and the only time I could see it was in the evenings? If I was working evenings, we'd hardly ever see each other.
I thought back to what Michael had said about his mother being absent during his upbringing. That was exactly the kind of mother I would be, albeit not by choice. But I didn't know how to find another job. I would need more schooling if I wanted to get a job in my field. What else could I do, work as a waitress? Even then, I would probably have to start on the undesirable night shifts before I worked my way up to working during daytimes.
I sighed and pressed my fingertips against my eyelids, then stared moodily out over the skyscrapers of New York City. I knew it was for the best, but I was starting to hate this whole idea. I supposed it was too much to ask to just tear up the contract and pretend that it had never existed.
Especially since I might already be pregnant.
I had to get out of that apartment, I decided, and I hurried out of there. I didn't know where Michael was, although I assumed he was at work. I thought about texting him, either to confirm that's where he was or to tell him I was leaving. He hadn't left a note, after all, or not that I could see, anyway.
But something held me back. This was a business arrangement. I already shouldn't have stayed over there the night before, or the other nights that week. But at least on those other nights, I'd stayed over there because we'd had sex, which was part of our business arrangement. This time, I'd just gone over there for a cuddle. After taking him to meet my parents.
I groaned. None of this was turning out to be very businesslike, and I knew I needed to bring it back to that. I was starting to feel overwhelmed by my feelings, and that was a bad place to be.
Fortunately, Erica was home when I got there. She took one look at my face and instantly knew something was wrong. “I've got some ice cream, but it's not cookie dough flavored,” she warned.
I laughed, but I suddenly surprised both of us when that laughter turned into tears.
“Oh honey,” Erica said, coming over to me and pulling me into her arms. “What's that bastard done to you?”
I shook my head. “He didn't do anything,” I sniffled. “But you were right when you told me to be careful. This is proving to be harder than I expected it would be.”
Erica held me. Then, she guided me over to the couch, sitting us both gingerly down on it. “Do you know if you're pregnant yet?” she asked. I shook my head miserably, and she sighed heavily. “If you are, nine months is going to be a terribly long time to feel like this,” she pointed out.
“I can't go back on the arrangement now,” I told her, feeling a bubble of panic rise in me. She was absolutely right, but how could I get through nine months, knowing that once I popped a kid out of me, Michael probably never wanted to see me again?”
“I doubt Michael is that much of a cold-hearted dick,” Erica said. “If you tell him that you're having second thoughts, that you're this upset about it, I doubt he would make you go through with it. I don't think he's going to sue you to enforce the contract.”
“What if he does, though?” I asked, my voice raw and scared. I should have thought this through before signing that damned thing; I didn't know what I had been thinking. “I can't afford to be sued.” I paused. “Anyway, it's not about the contract. I don't mind carrying his baby for him. I just don't know what to do about the baby. I don't think I want to give it up, but I also know that I could never raise it. And then I'd still have to have another baby and give it up to him.”
Erica was silent for a long moment, just patting my back. “If you're okay with having the baby, maybe you need to cross that bridge when you get to it,” she said. “What I mean is, once the baby is born, then you can worry about who is going to have custody over it. The main thing you need figure out right now is if you're even willing to have that baby. If not, you probably need to steer clear of Mr. Needs-An-Heir.”
“I don't know if I can,” I sobbed. “He's a regular at The Shift.”
Erica cracked a grin. “Now you know my pain every time I break up with one of my boyfriends,” she joked.
I managed a watery smile. Finally, I took a deep breath. “I can't avoid him,” I told her.
“Then maybe make sure you're not alone, in a private place, with him anymore,” Erica suggested. “I can keep an eye on you while you're at the bar.”
“Okay,” I said in a small voice. I paused. “I took him to meet my parents.”
“You did?” Erica asked, sounding shocked. “How did that go?”
“I think Mom's in love with him,” I told her. “Dad was thrilled too.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Sorry about the waterworks; I'm probably just over-tired.”
“Do you need to take a night off work?” Erica asked sympathetically.
I snorted. “You know I can't afford to do that,” I told her.
“For the last time, would you worry about your health and sanity more than you worry about the rent payment?” Erica asked, but there was no malice in her voice, just genuine exasperation.
I smiled at her. “Thanks,” I said, giving her another hug.
She sighed and stroked my hair. Clearly, it was on the tip of her tongue to say something else, but she refrained. I was grateful for that, at least.
I thought again about texting Michael, but again, something held me back. I needed to pull back from this situation for a little while. For the sake of my sanity, like Erica had said.
“I'm going to go try to take a nap before work,” I told her.
“All right,” Erica said. I could see that she was still worried about me and that almost set off a fresh wave of tears. Fortunately, I managed to make it back to my private portion of the room before the tears spilled over.