Will You Be My Babymate?

Prologue

No sooner had I started discussing the specifics of my client's latest work that I felt a familiar sense of queasiness. My stomach began to regurgitate all sorts of tingly sensations, but my mind knew this was just the calm before the storm. A horrendous one I was slowly getting accustomed to.

Bruce, my client, offered for help, asking whether I was okay. I couldn't force a single word out of my mouth, no matter how much I wanted to. I raised a hand in defense, trying to convey that I was okay. That this was just a phase. That I would survive this.

I felt the bile build up, felt my throat constrict in pain. I found myself clutching the leather armrest of my chair, choosing the darkness behind my eyes over the optimistic brightness of the day. My face had probably drained out of color, the blood somehow rushing to my brain, making me dizzy.

I suddenly covered my face with the palm of my hand and dashed out of my chair, excusing my client with a wave of hand. My feet carried me faster than I thought I could, the heels of my stilettos pronouncing a hurried series of 'clanks' all the way.

I finally pushed a door open, ran to the nearest sink, and spat out the remnants of an apple and a latte I had this morning for breakfast. Gripping the edges of the counter, my shoulders hunched and I drew out long sighs, praying this moment of torment to be over. Cleaning myself up, I fixed the pleats of my maroon top, brushing the non-existent dust off my black pencil skirt.

I ran my fingers through my straight hair, fixing the chestnut locks back into their place. I attempted at forming a confident smile to myself in the mirror. Despite the vivacious stroke of eyeliner and a bold shade of red lipstick, the bags under my eyes and the paleness of my olive-skinned face gnawed at me. The confidence wavered as the exhaustion wore on.

"There you are. Are you okay?" My best friend and assistant barged in through the washroom door, her brows arched in concern, her golden locks of hair dancing in worry.

"I'm fine, Caroline." I answered after taking a deep breath.

Her eyes scrutinized cynically as she waited for any unwanted jolts of surprises.

"I told you, I'm fine." I began to smile, wanting to ask her to relax just when I felt another jerk, this time in my lower abdomen. My face tried to maintain a sense of serenity despite the internal turmoil of pain as I clutched my belly, praying for it to go away.

"No you're not." She pointed out with a gasp, rushing to my side.

Taking me to the nearest chair, she helped me lean against the wall as I let out short breaths, allowing the weariness to take over.

Grabbing a bottle of water, my best friend tilted it to my mouth while I took small sips, feeling the coolness soothe my insides.

"Thank you, Care. Water generally helps." I murmured under my breath.

"It does when you're on your period. Not when you're pregnant, Elena." Her voice held a tone of austerity.

"Hush." I grabbed her hand tersely, worried someone had heard her.

"You can go on denying the truth, but it's not going to change." She reprimanded with a roll of eyes.

"I'm not denying it. I'm just...hiding it. For the time being." I whispered guiltily, lowering my lids to my fidgeting hands.

"You know that's not going to work for long, Elena. Why are you even doing this?" She huffed in exasperation.

"Well, what would people say about a Content Editor revealing her pregnancy days after her boyfriend flees?! Who is going to rely on an editor for business who's soon to be a single mom?!" I lashed out annoyedly as tears sprung to life, "How will I ever save my job with this burden I'm carrying?"