Forever Yours

Chapter Forty

As she opened her mouth to speak, I held my breath. Though I already knew what she was going to say but this, this was final. Whatever she says now seals my destiny.

"You're pregnant," she paused then set the clipboard on her desk only adding to the tense air. "Two and a half weeks."

I froze, unmoving and unable to breathe.

Funke shook me, "Riya breathe."

She instructed but I just couldn't.

The only thing I could do was think, think about how my life is going to turn out.

Miserable.

"Victoria!" Funke called and I finally breathed, letting air flood through my lungs, almost choking on it.

"Hey, hey, you're fine." She rubbed my back soothingly. "You're fine, it's not the end of the world."

"How do I tell him? Andrew, he's going to leave me," I was panicking now, my breathing short.

"Hey, hey just relax first, you need to be calm to figure this out." Funke said, her hand still on my back but it wasn't working.

"No, no, no. I can't," I felt the tears pouring down my face and this time she pulled me to herself, engulfing me in a hug.

And I cried, I cried on her shoulders, my tears soaking her shirt but she didn't mind, she just kept saying soothing words to me, assuring me that I'd be okay.

It took a while for me to calm down so by the time she pulled away from the hug, I noticed that her Adrian's mother was no longer in the office.

Funke took me back home and she cooked for us while I laid on the couch with one hand on my stomach and the other under my head.

I was carrying something that had life in me meaning in a matter of nine months I would be a mother.

Was I ready?

No.

I still have a life ahead of me that I planned. Before the end of this year I'm supposed to start my master degree then go for my PhD later before my father would hand over the company to me.

Then I would start thinking of marriage, if Andrew and I aren't married already then kids.

Kids aren't supposed to come until the next three to five years. But no, I had to go mess it up and be stupid.

I screamed and threw the pillow that was resting at the top of the couch to the ground.

Funke ran out of the kitchen, a knife in one hand and a bulb of onions in the other, fear was written on her face. "What is it?"

I whipped my head to her and sighed, "sorry."

She relaxed, "aya mi to ja." (You scared me)

"Sorry," I repeated and she nodded before going back to the kitchen.

My phone began ringing on the stool beside the couch and I slowly sat up and picked it up. My heart skipped a beat when I saw his name but not the type that gives you butterflies, the kind that makes you want to run away and hide.

One question remains unanswered, how am I going to tell him?

For sure he's going to think the child is his but I don't want to string him like that because what if the child ends up for Miles, how do I explain it then? The best option is to tell him now and deal with what will come now.

But not now, not even today. I'll have to tell him in front of Miles and come what may. Tomorrow feels like the better option, I'll get him and Miles together and tell them.