I’m so fucking stupid.

I could say it a thousand times over, and it still wouldn’t sink in. But it’s true. I’m stupid. Everything I’ve done is stupid. Everything I’ve tried is stupid.

Nicolai.

Me.

Yana.

After he found me in the club a few months ago, talking to Jack, he decided he wanted me a little more. Stupid me fell for it, and we had sex, oh, so much sex. Every day I’d come in here, and he’d fuck me, or make love to me, and confuse my mind even more. Every day I’d convince myself it was because he cared about me, and wanted to be with me, otherwise he’d just take anyone else.

He even stopped sleeping with other women.

It was just him and me.

And I made sure I was always available. I was always well dressed. I put on whatever show he wanted. I gave him whatever he wanted. Because I was so damned sure that we had something, that there was something between us worth exploring. He called me. We texted. There was something. I became infatuated with him, only to find I was so very, very wrong.

Nicolai was sleeping with me. End of story. That’s it. Nothing more.

Things have gone from bad to worse. Yana caught us sleeping together, lost her mind and tried to hurt me, so Nicolai fired her. That was the last time I saw or heard from her. I kept my job, convinced that now Yana was gone, Nicolai and I would become official, maybe go out on some dates.

When I asked him this, he flat out told me it was never going to happen.

Never going to happen.

Then he stopped sleeping with me. He just stopped all contact. He told me I was reading it wrong. That he was just having fun. He was just fucking me. Like he fucked plenty of other girls. That he was sorry, but it was absolutely nothing more than that. And he had no feelings for me.

Can you believe?

Reading it wrong.

I was reading it wrong.

And his words ...I’m utterly heartbroken.

I’ve tried everything, I’ve tried to seduce him, make him jealous, you name it. I’ve cried. Told him I loved him. And all I’ve done is push him further and further away. And in turn, that has made me feel even more desperate, even more hurt, even more pathetic. Slowly but surely, I’ve sunk myself into a deep hole. I feel so utterly stupid. And with each passing day, I realize just how much he doesn’t want me.

And reality hits hard.

It’ll never happen.

And I’ve let myself go and develop some fake feelings for him, because everything I thought was wrong, which means my feelings aren’t even real. They’re empty. They’re broken. They’re not anything. Nothing.

I caved and told Lucy, and she told me I had to quit. I couldn’t be there any longer. She’s right. So that’s exactly what I did.

I quit.

I left the job.

And you know what? He didn’t call. Not once.

Not to check how I am.

Not to see if I’m getting by.

Not even to just be there as a friend, knowing that I was so hurt over the whole thing.

My heart is broken.

And every single day that passes, I feel even more pathetic and empty.

Depression is real.

I failed my sister.

I failed my friends.

And I failed myself.

I became obsessed with a man that I shouldn’t have even had anything to do with. And through this, witnessed my first heartbreak. But it gets worse.

Oh.

So much worse.

I’m here, standing outside of Nicolai’s office at the club, tear-streaked face, mascara running, looking utterly ridiculous. But I have to be here. I have to speak with him. Even though I know he’s going to just hate me forever when he knows what I have to tell him. He already told me I needed help, that I was obsessed and needed to leave him alone.

How could I be so brainless? As to become so infatuated with a man and not realize what I was doing?

Not even my age can really justify it.

I raise a hand and bang on the door, once, twice, and then drop them by my side.

A moment later, Nicolai appears. He looks at me, and I can see his face immediately become hard. He opens his mouth and demands, “I’ve told you I don’t wish to see you, Shania. I’m not sure why you’re here?”

“I need to speak with you. It’s important. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

“Not to be rude, but you’ve told me that before, over and over. You need to go and get some help. I’m sorry things got out of control like this, honestly, I am. I didn’t realize you’d get so ... attached.”

Hurt, I glare at him. “I’m an eighteen-year-old girl, you knew I had a crush on you, you took my virginity and then continued to sleep with me. Did you honestly think nothing would happen?”

“I’m a man,” he grinds out. “Men sleep with women. You were practically throwing yourself at me. What did you want me to do, Shania? Say no? I mean, fuck, looking back I should have said no. But you’re not the first stripper I’ve slept with, and you won’t be the last.”

That hits me like a slap to the face.

How dare he.

How. Dare. He.

He’s acting like ... like I’m just another notch in his belt.

God dammit.

I probably am.

I fight back the tears, refusing to let him see anymore.

“I read it wrong, I understand,” I grind out. “But you didn’t exactly make things clear.”

“You’re not experienced with men, if you were, you would have known I didn’t have to make it clear.”

“And you knew that I wasn’t experienced coming into it!” I snap. “So don’t sit back and put all the blame on me.”

He shakes his head. “You need to leave, Shania. Honestly. This is getting out of control.”

“I haven’t spoken to you in weeks, I’ve left you alone, I’ve learned my lesson. I get it, okay. I don’t want anything from you anymore. But like I said, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have something important to tell you.”

He stares at me and then shakes his head, frustrated, and says, “This better not be another one of your tricks, because fuck, you’ve driven me far enough up the wall.”

He’s just making me feel even more stupid about how I’ve acted. As if I don’t already beat myself up enough, he goes ahead and adds to it. I know I called too many times, text too many times, came here too many times, begged too many times. I know what I did. I feel so damned stupid for it.

“It isn’t a trick. It isn’t a game. In fact, I knew you’d say that, so I bought some stuff in with me, so I can prove it.”

“Prove what? What the hell are you talking about?”

I step into his office, bag clutched in my hand, stomach in my throat. I know what I’m about to tell him isn’t going to go down well. I know he’s going to freak out. I know he’s going to demand all sorts of things. I’ve already made my mind up what I’m going to do. I already know. But he has a right to know, and that’s the only reason I’m here.

I turn to him and he closes the door behind him. “Well, what is it?”

I take a deep breath, look him in the eyes, and say, “I’m pregnant, Nicolai. And it’s yours.”