Chapter 30

Beatrice

I roll my chair back from my desk and take a deep breath as I close my eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that I feel like I’m going to be sick again. After a moment, the nausea finally passes, and I’m relieved—but at the same time, fed up.

I lean forward and place my elbows on the desk. I rest my face in my hands, letting out a sigh.

When is this going to end? I’ve already been sick twice today, and it’s not even noon. How the hell am I supposed to focus on getting anything done when I constantly have to excuse myself?

It’s been two days since the State Dinner, and I can’t seem to shake whatever it is that’s making me feel ill. I’m fine one minute, and then the next, it’s like I’m battling the monster of all stomach bugs.

It obviously wasn’t just something I ate, like I initially thought; otherwise I would have felt better by now. If it were food poisoning, it would have worked its way through by now.

The flu, then? No, I don’t think it is, or else other people would be sick as well. And I don’t have any of the other symptoms—no aches or fevers, no chills—just nausea and a little bit of dizziness here and there.

It’s not even like I’m nauseous all the time, either. Sometimes, I’ll feel fine, but then I’ll smell something, and my stomach will lurch, and I’ve got to beeline it out of there.

And the mornings? Ugh, the mornings are the worst. The past two days, I’ve woken up and immediately had to throw up. It just doesn’t make any sense.

I jolt upright and gasp, my hand darting to my mouth.

No, no, no, no, no.

I jump out of my chair and start pacing the room, thankful for the fact that I’m alone during this realization. If someone were around right now, I don’t think I’d be able to form coherent enough sentences to even ask them to leave.

I start making a mental checklist, and my heart thuds faster in my chest with every passing second. I can feel a fresh wave of sickness coming already.

Sickness in the mornings? Check.

Normal everyday things making me nauseous? Check.

Random sickness throughout the day that passes as soon as it comes? Check.

I dart into the private bathroom attached to the office and throw the door closed behind me. I lean forward, retching into the sink.

After I’m done, I splash cold water on my face. I stand and glance at myself in the mirror, making sure that I look alright and not like I just threw my guts up for the third time today. I then adjust my hair until I feel satisfied before walking back to the office.

I sit down in the chair. First order of business is picking up my phone and dialing Hope’s number.

She picks up on the second ring, and I’m relieved. I really didn’t want to have to track her down or leave a voicemail.

“Hey, Beatrice. How’s it going?”

I laugh nervously and lean back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose and sighing as I reply. “Well, I’ve certainly been better.”

“Oh, no. Were you sick again? Sheesh, you’re really having a hard time shaking whatever this is, aren’t you? Can I get you anything?”

Well, she did ask.

I try to keep my tone even when I answer and pray that she’s alone.

“Actually, yes. You could get me a pregnancy test.”

I sit there and wait while she’s silent on the other line.

There’s a brief second where I think maybe I’ve lost her, but then I hear her take a breath and clear her throat.

“Hope?”

“Yes, I’m here. Of course. Could you be? Are you sure?”

I roll my eyes. Of course I’m not sure, hence the test.

“Well, no, I’m not, which is why I’m asking you to get me a test.”

“Right. Just give me a second, okay?”

I can hear her fumbling her desk drawer through the phone, and then what sounds like papers and folders, and then muffled voices. After a moment, she’s back, and the second I hear her words, it feels like my blood freezes in my veins.

“Beatrice? Hi, I actually had one in my desk. It’s being sent over with an intern right now.”

Is she serious? She’s sending me a pregnancy test with an intern. Great, that’s not going to create some gossip or anything.

I hiss back at her, and I get up and shut the office door, so no one walking by can see or hear me.

“Hope. Are you kidding me? I want to keep this private, and you send a pregnancy test with an intern? What are you thinking?”

“Relax, Beatrice. I sent an intern your way with an envelope of important documents I need you to sign. It’s tucked inside, between two of the folders. Just open the envelope alone and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, thank you.”

We say our goodbyes, and I get back to work on my computer, wanting to distract myself.

If someone would have said to me a few months ago that I’d be calling Hope Olivier in a panic because I thought I was pregnant with the president’s baby, I would have laughed and called him crazy.

Yet here I am.

I’m thankful that Hope and I have grown close since this all started. I truly do count her as a friend—a good one.

I nearly jump out of my seat when there’s a sudden knock on my door. I get up and answer it. To no surprise, there’s an intern with an envelope from Hope; I quickly take it, muttering a rushed thanks and shutting the door in his face.

I walk over to the desk and empty the contents. Sure enough, just like Hope said, a pregnancy test falls between two of the manila folders.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

I take it into the bathroom and follow the instructions, and then leave it on the side of the sink.

I set a timer on my phone for five minutes. I try to finish the email I was working on, but I can’t seem to focus on it. After a few minutes, I give up and just start pacing the room again.

I’m probably just overreacting. I’ll check the test, and it’ll have that one little blue line, telling me I’m not pregnant.

That’s it. I’m stressing over nothing, more than likely…I hope.

I hear my phone’s alarm, and I stride into the bathroom to pick up the test. A soft whimper creeps out from between my lips when I look at it.

Oh, my god.

Two blue lines.

There are two lines!

I shake my head and blink a few times, trying to focus. I’m dizzy, and the two lines must be a mistake because of how I’m feeling.

I glance back down at it, and there are still two blue lines. My heart sinks in my chest.

What the fuck do I do now?

As if on cue, I hear Hope’s voice ringing out from my office. She must have made her way over here after sending her intern. I didn’t even hear her come in.

“Beatrice?”

“In here.”

My voice is shaky, and I feel like I’m going to pass out, so I brace myself against the door.

She comes around the corner and sees me leaning up against the door to the bathroom, panic washed all over my face.

She crosses her arms and gives me a sympathetic nod.

“Well, I take it there are two little blue lines on that stick, not just one.”

I nod, unable to speak. I try to respond, but it feels like the words just dry up in my throat when I try.

I walk back into the office and let myself drop onto the couch. I take a deep breath as Hope sits down next to me.

I look over at her, my eyes begging as much as my voice.

“Hope, please don’t say anything to anyone.”

She scoffs at me and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, shaking her head.

“Of course I’m not going to say anything. But what are you going to do?”

Fuck. I hadn’t even gotten that far to consider my options—do I have options? I’m supposed to be the upcoming First Lady, but this isn’t how this is all supposed to go.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

I don’t even have an answer for that.

I shrug, shaking my head and taking shallow breaths, my gaze floating around the room. I don’t even have an answer to her question.

“I don’t know, Hope. But one thing I do know is I don’t want to tell Henry. Not yet, anyway. Not until I figure out—just…not yet.”

I look her in the eyes, and she just nods and gives me a soft smile. “I understand.”

She stands from the couch and grabs my jacket hanging on my desk chair. She hands it to me, then gesture towards the door.

“Come on, let’s go get coffee.”

I sigh and shake my head, looking at the stack of papers I still need to go through. “I really shouldn’t. I’ve got a million things to do.”

“Oh, so do I. And we’ll do them. We can get coffee and work from the residence. At least there, you won’t be interrupted, and you’ll have some privacy. Henry’s in meetings all day. He won’t be there for hours.”

Some privacy does sound nice right about now.

I sigh and nod, then get up and gather my things from my desk, moving them all in my bag.

I put on my best smile as we walk out of the office. I let one of the staffers know that Hope and I have some things to discuss and that I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day.

With that, we head out to get coffee. We go up to the residence, my mind racing.

“You’ll be fine, Beatrice. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and give her a smile.

I sure fucking hope so.