We’d been seated in the club for less than thirty minutes before Blair and Vivienne deliberately left me at the booth with Jack while they dragged poor Ethan to dance with them. They weren’t so slick. It stunk of a setup, and I hoped Jack didn’t see it that way. I’d feel triple embarrassed after this afternoon’s incident if he did.

A smile tugged at Jack’s lips, amused at the blatant attempt my friends had made to try to make us happen. It seemed he was the type whose cheeks reddened once alcohol got into their system. The look softened him; it enhanced his boyish good looks.

“I’m sorry,” I said, grinning, “I swear they’re not normally crazy—wait, I take that back. Yeah, they’re always insane.” Shrugging, I downed my martini in two gulps, feeling brave enough to hold out my hand, staring at him. “Dance with me.”

“About time you asked,” he stood up.

I obviously knew he wasn’t Jared, but somehow, I found comfort at the thought that this could be the second best. If I couldn’t have the real one, then his close doppelganger would do. Insane didn’t come close to describing my train of thought, but a broken heart wasn’t known for rationalizing things. And in this moment, I simply wanted to forget. Lose myself in Jack, hoping he’d be the man who had the power to make me get over Jared St. James.

Well, it didn’t necessarily happen in that order. It took me five days until I allowed him to kiss me. Another three until we did the dirty. I wasn’t sure what I expected. My naiveté sure caught me by surprise. After experiencing Jared’s size, having a quarter of that magnitude trying to poke you…Well, I was beyond astonished. Sure, it still felt good, but it wasn’t anything mind-blowing or earth-shattering. It simply was—well, shallow poking.

Things weren’t all that splendid, but I appreciated Jack’s enthusiasm since he was a great diversion from my broken heart. But after the first night we had sex, his demeanor changed. He began to complain that work hindered us being together. Stuck in a sticky situation, I didn’t utter a word to my friends. Dating me shouldn’t alter his work ethic. He was specially hired on board to do a job. But each day, he would grate about it to the point where he even offered to quit so we could be with each other at all times.

I’d have said no, too, but I was getting lonely, and I reluctantly budged. My friends weren’t pleased, but they kept it to themselves. After all, if it weren’t for their insistence, I wouldn’t have thought of Jack as my rebound person. With my allowance bankrolling our shopping and whatever activities we did out of the yacht, I thought we were on the same page. But on several occasions, I caught Jack drunk and flirting with other women. On one particular night in Capri, I yanked him away before he almost kissed a woman.

We had our first major row back in our hotel room. After promising me the moon and back, I forgave him.

I suppose I should’ve seen the signs. But I was truly caught off guard when I found his unlocked phone after passing out drunk. Jack was dating two more women; apparently one was back in UK and another in Monaco.

After learning the fact, I wasn’t necessarily angry. Disgusted maybe? A little bit used? But then again, I argued that I was somewhat using him to get over Jared, too. So, in a way, we’re quite even.

I’d have kicked him off the boat right then and there, but we were in the middle of the sea, sailing towards Croatia. So, for another half a day, I endured his sullen presence. He felt attacked when I confronted him about it. His fury doubled when I broke up with him without an ounce of hesitation. But I didn’t give a damn. He’d crossed me twice now. The first offense, I could forgive. The second? Never. Besides, the decision wasn’t a hardship. It wasn’t as if I was in love with him or anything, or he was granting me obliterating sex, so might as well cut my teeny losses and get on with life.

The second we moored off the coast of Croatia, Jack instantly rushed out of my bedroom, huffing as he obscenely mouthed how ungrateful I was before hopping towards the speedboat, leaving me alone.

We previously had plans for a spa and sightseeing, but when my phone alarm went off, reminding me of my period—well, things became quite interesting.

Dread filled me as my body began to profusely sweat. I was insistent with Jack wearing a condom every single time. Unless…

My throat ached at the idea.

Jared didn’t wear one. Was it even possible? God, I hoped not. This would be cruel in the cruelest of ways.

So, instead of joining my friends to explore the new city, the moment I spotted an unassuming pharmacy, I lamely excused myself, telling them that I had to search for Jack. At this point, they were over him—as was I, but they didn’t know that yet.

“Hello. I need a pregnancy test.” I nervously smiled at the seventy-ish old man who stood behind the counter, blankly staring back at me.

When he simply frowned, I wanted to die on the spot. Could this day get any worse? Fuck.

Okay. Breath in. Breath out. There’s no point in panicking. The poor man might need me to be elaborate. After all, I was in a foreign country. One shouldn’t expect everyone spoke English. I’m sure most of the country do, but a few were an exception. It was just my luck I had to step into one that made my life more of a struggle. Surprised at my unlucky streak as of late? Not entirely.

“Erm,” I awkwardly said as my mind scattered about the small pharmacy and found a stack of diapers. Pointing at it, I began to describe it to him. “Test for beba.” My hand mimicked a burgeoning baby over my belly. “Beba testing…pregnancy test…if there’s a beba.”

His frown deepened before mumbling something I couldn’t catch. He lifted a finger in the air, wagging it as if to tell me to wait before he went behind the curtained door, only to emerge with a baby milk bottle.

Poor guy.

Poor me.

My energy deflated even more.

“No, no.” I vehemently shook my head, mightily trying to block the frustration slowly creeping into my resolve, imploring the confused frowning old man before me. “No beba!”

Pulling my phone out, I figured my AI would be able to help me translate, but to no avail. My roaming was down.

Shit kabobs. What now?

I pointed my finger towards the door where he recently emerged, feeling hopeful. “May I go in there?” I took a few steps, and I heard him shuffle behind me. “Can I go in there, please?” I tried to do the best animated hand gestures possible before I saw him nod, seemingly understanding what I was trying to convey.

Relieved, I took a few steps and entered the storage room. The back was lined with shelves, and my eyes roamed one after the other until I found what I needed—or the closest to the pregnancy test I’d seen back home. I took three altogether. One for each brand.

The man only grinned, showcasing his toothless state before giving me a thumbs up.

I couldn’t help it; I let out a riotous laugh because my life was far from great. Based on the chain of bullshit knocking me down, my chances of not being pregnant were nil.

Since I didn’t have any Kuna, I handed him five one hundred dollar bills, mostly thanking him for trusting me enough to let me inside his storage room so I could hunt down these bastards.

“Hvala ti.” Thank you.

I shoved my items into the purse. Where the hell was Jack, anyway? I thought as I strode back to where the speedboat was stationed, waiting for anyone ready to head back to the yacht.

Vivienne and Ethan were still out and about, and Blair was at the spa. But I wanted to go into my room and was ready to get on with it.

I carefully undressed and only pulled my Japanese soft blue silk robe with cherry blossoms on it before entering the bathroom. Quite unready for doomsday.

Ten minutes later, my suspicions were confirmed.

All three.

Pregnant, it said in small bold letters.

“No. No. No.” I chanted agitatedly as my hand shook while gripping the slender stick. “There’s got to be a mistake,” I whispered unsteadily as my tears welled around my eyes, my sight glassing over at the daunting word that changed my life forever. “I can’t be…” Then a thought came to me. Maybe I need better lighting…Maybe something was broken. I desperately reasoned as I rashly strode over to the door, yanking it open.

My head pounded as my mind repeated the damning word over and over again.

Lifting my hand to the side of my head, I dug my fingers into the roots of my hair, frantic and seconds away from a serious meltdown.

In my current hysteria of trying to get to the window where the bright sunshine beamed brightly, I didn’t see the figure until it was too late.