◽OUTCOME◽
◽MARIAN'S POV◽
“Can you please drive me to a pharmacist?” I blurted out the second we were safely in the car.
He leaned closer, and I shrank back into my seat. I really need to grow a damn spine.
He opened the glove box and pulled out an inhaler the same one I’d left on the kitchen counter earlier.
He didn’t say anything. He just handed it to me.
Even though I hate him for letting those creepy bastards say such disgusting things to me without stopping them, he still kept them from hitting me. And they would’ve hit me if they had the chance.
“Thank you,” I croaked, clearing my throat as I took a generous drag of the inhaler.
I felt nauseous, like I was about to throw up every bite of food I’d eaten today. I glanced at the time it was already around 5 p.m. I just wanted to crawl into bed. I wasn’t feeling my best, not even close.
For about a week now, I’ve been constantly tired and nauseous. I’d chalked it up to low vitamin D or maybe just a side effect of the surrogacy hormones. That had to be it.
I didn’t say a word to him the rest of the ride. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he did the right thing by acting like complete trash.
We got to the house at twenty-seven minutes past six. 11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡepRRFyb9ci
Most uncomfortable ride of my life.
The moment I stepped into the living room, the smell hit me, Italian food. And the scent, which would’ve appealed to me a few hours ago, now had me sprinting straight to the bathroom.
I emptied my stomach.
After washing my face, I just gave up.
Was I really that grossed out by those disgusting men?
When I walked out of the bathroom, everyone was staring at me like I’d grown two heads—including Carmello. His expression said exactly that.
“Are you okay?” Martini asked, walking up to me and looking me over.
“Aleesia came back today,” she explained. “I asked her to make some Italian food to celebrate your exam. I didn’t know…”
“No, it wasn’t the food,” I interrupted quickly, shaking my head. My gaze landed on the most gorgeous middle-aged woman I’d seen in a while. She looked exhausted, probably from cooking all day.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, addressing everyone. But it felt. weird. Their eyes were still glued to me. I’d lived here a whole year, and yet I suddenly felt so out of place. “If you’ll excuse me,” I added with an awkward smile. “Busy day and all.”
Then I backed into the room.
Fucking hell, I hate this.
They didn’t say a word as I retreated.
Why did I feel so out of place? Why did I want to just *leave* right now?
---
A knock on the door woke me.
I looked down, I’d fallen asleep in my clothes. Too lazy and, for some reason, way too exhausted to change.
“Come in,” I murmured, but the door opened anyway.
“Hey,” said Mrs. Herbert, stepping in with something in her hand.
I recognized her. She’d been around during my first few months here, before she suddenly disappeared. They’d said she wasn’t around, just like that. But with everything that goes on in this house, I honestly thought she was dead.
“You remember me, right?”
Seeing her now, back in her old-lady getup, I recognized her better.
“Yeah.”
“Are you feeling better now?” she asked, walking closer.
I nodded. A little, at least.
Uncomfortable? Definitely.
She came even closer and frowned. “You’re burning up.”
I was?
She disappeared and returned with a wet towel, placing it gently on my forehead.
“Marian, dear?” she said softly. “When was your last period?”
I blinked. Huh?
She moved closer again, checking my eyes, then my palms. “What’s today’s date?” I asked, like I hadn’t literally written an exam today.
“November 24th.”
Wait. I’m three weeks late?
I hadn’t even thought about it. 11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyB8cacAkak
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCLJXAD98FS
But, wait.
why do older women start asking about your period and looking at your hands and eyes?
The IVF didn’t work, so pregnancy seemed impossible. Is a late period even a side effect of the procedure?
God, I hope this isn’t what I think it is.
She must’ve sensed my panic.
“I’ll call Larino,” she said quickly.
She’s calling Dr. Larry?
I’m fuckedvv
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