Under The Hood

Ch. 3

The scent of garlic and herb assaults me as soon as I step through Margot's door, bending to pick up her 12-week-old puppy, Norma, who charges at me. I kiss her fluffy face, murmuring nonsense to her as we make our way to the kitchen, where my best friend is headfirst in the oven.

"Hey, babe," she says, shaking a roasting tray of something. "I'm just putting in the roasted veggies. Grab a drink. I have some Chardonnay chilling in the fridge."

The kitchen island is dressed beautifully with pale pink place settings, gold cutlery and crystal glasses, and various drink choices. I spot the sparking water cans and grab one of those, stopping my retreat to her side of the kitchen when she shuts the oven door to scrutinise what's in my hand.

"What?" I ask, taking a few big gulps.

She goes over to the fridge. "You heard me say we have wine, didn't you?"

I lift the pan lid off the bubbling tomato sauce, thinking it smells delicious, reduced and thick, perfect for whatever meal she's planning. Finely chopped veggies are in the sauce, and grated parmesan in a bowl next to the stove.

"Imogen, do you have a headache, sweetie?" she assumes, probably because I usually live for wine, sparkling and still.

I give off an awkward laugh. "Huh, well, fun fact, I'm pregnant."

"Oh, my god. No, you are not!" she says, hand over mouth, absolutely mortified. "You're not Imogen. Not from the guy with the big—?"

I swallow, cringing. "Margot, please!"

She huffs. "Only repeating what you told me the other night. So, is it true? You're having a baby?"

My nod is barely visible, but it doesn't stop her from dashing across the room to grab me into her arms. We share a long hug before she pulls back, holding me at arm's length to get a proper look at me.

I watch her eyes skim me from head to toe, and then she's shaking her head. "This is mental. I know they say you're an adult when you turn thirty, but you really took that literally. Aren't you on birth control?"

"No, but we used condoms," I say.

Margot approves. "Condoms as in multiple? Nice."

I was celibate for two years before my thirtieth birthday, where after a week solid of stress, I decided to do something out of character. Let myself enjoy life. A woman has needs.

Jude attracted me right away. It's not hard to see why, but it wasn't just his looks; something drew me to him. He caught my eye first, sent me a flirty little smile, and approached when I gave him one back.

I drain the rest of the sparkling water. "The stamina was something else. I never thought it was true about condoms failing sometimes, though. They were the extra safe ones."

Margot seasons the boiling water before adding fresh, wholewheat ravioli to the pan. "Were they from a new pack?"

Jude brought one with him, so we had to use the rest from my bedside table. "No, they were from when I was with Tyler."

"That crazy fucker probably pierced holes into them or something," she responds, and a sick feeling floods my chest. Oh, my god.

My eyes grow wide. "You don't think... Do you?"

Once the ravioli is cooked, she drains it and adds three pieces each to the plates, dressing it with the rich tomato sauce, parmesan, and fresh basil. "Honestly? Yes. The bloke was obsessed with you, and not in a good way."

I ended our three-year relationship after a particularly long stint of arguing. The anger issues and manipulation were way too much to handle. It wasn't a simple break-up with him threatening and gaslighting me into getting back with him. Then one night, he brought a woman back to my home intending to cheat on me, and I had my out.