Pregnant Mistress Can't Get Away

“Congratulations, Stella. The results were positive. You’re pregnant.” The doctor says with a huge smile on her face and I can’t help but wonder if her happiness is the same for everyone who comes walking through the door of her clinic, or if I’m somewhat special. I have barely known this woman for a few hours maybe, but the way she looks happy for me, makes me a little sad. Not because I’m looking for reasons to be upset, because someone told me once that the brightest smile hides a most painful sadness, but because I want to smile in the same way and I just can’t. I’m too busy being shocked. “Are you sure?” It’s not the best reply I can come up with but I’m in need of reassurance, which, apparently, my doctor is willing to offer because she just smiles even more and nods at me. “Of course. I’ve been doing this for a long time, you can trust my judgment.” I have no doubt she’s right. I do feel pregnant myself. I mean, sure, my stomach is still as flat as ever but when I woke up this morning, I felt different. I knew something changed. Something inside me. I give my doctor the smile she expects from a newly informed pregnant woman and walk out of the hospital with an inevitable fear in my heart. I already know how this is going to play out with Bastian. I’m going to tell him I’m pregnant, again, and he’s going to tell me to abort, again. I’ll tell him that I won’t, that I want to keep the baby—again—and he’s going to warn me that if I didn’t do as he said he would stop paying for my sister’s treatment—again. And, of course, that’s where I stop being difficult because no way in hell I can afford to put my sister’s treatment on pause, that’s where I slam my mouth shut and remind myself who I am. It’s the same fight, all over again. It never changes. And every time we fight like this, it tears at my soul a little more. It eats away at my happiness and makes me question myself over and over again until I’m ready to believe that this is just as much my fault as it is his. The only difference is that I don’t have a choice but he does. And yet…he chooses to be cruel. I breathe in a deep breath and call my driver. I only have to wait for a minute or two when a black Mercedes pulls up in front of me, and I slide inside, ignoring all the curious eyes that seem to be drilling holes into my body. It’s always like this. Whenever I step out of my comfy penthouse apartment, I feel like I’m the centre of the universe, that every eye in the world is laser-focused on me, watching me, perusing me…judging me. The reason, however, isn’t because of what I’m wearing (which is just a black mini-dress and a pair of four-inch black heels), or because my makeup is just that good—although I know it is—or even because I’m pretty—I’m not that naive to think that I’m not. I know I’m a good-looking. I know people look at me, but not like this. Not the way around me does. Of course, I’m wrong. No one has that much time in their hands to waste it on someone like me—a stranger. But I can’t help the way I feel. I can’t help the guilt that always churns in the pit of my stomach. I just can’t. Maybe if I was stronger. I shake the thought from my mind. I don’t like to think of things that are out of my control. They just depress me even more. The car barely pulls up in front of my apartment building when my phone rings. I answer it before even looking at the caller ID and my sister’s sweet, yet tired, voice fills my ear. “Hey.” I can’t stop myself from smiling. The sound of her voice has always managed to put a smile on my face. It reminds me of how things used to be. Back then, when we were young, when we had a family. When she wasn’t dying and I wasn’t being used by an asshole to take care of her. “How are you feeling?” She lets out a tired chuckle. “You ask me this question every single time you call me. I think we’ve already established that I’m still the same, Stella.” Her voice sounds weak and hoarse. I don’t have to be beside her to know that she looks tired, as if the fight with her cancer is already making her fade away. But that’s what happens. People don’t fight against their death, they simply wait for it to take them away. And it scares me, the fact that she doesn’t seem to care much anymore, as if she’s just given up. As if she doesn’t have the strength left to care. But that’s okay because I have enough for both of us. And I can care for the both of us, even though my mind seems to be constantly struggling to be free, even though it’s becoming more and more difficult for me to hold on every passing day. But I will do it. Because it’s my job as her sister and there isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t do for her, no sacrifice I wouldn’t make. “You’re going to get better,” I say to her as the driver opens the door and I step out, thanking him. “I met your doctor last time and he says the treatment seems to be working. You’re going to get better, I promise you, okay?” “Yeah. Okay.” She sounds far away, like she’s not really paying attention to anything that I’m saying to her but that’s fine. “Listen, I just called to tell you that you don’t have to do anything grand for my birthday. No surprises or anything.” I reach the bank of elevators and wait for it to arrive, a few men in business suits standing beside me. I can feel their eyes on me, on my legs, on my breast, on the side of my neck too, which I know can’t be surprising if I have two or three love bites glaringly visible for the world to see. “Are you kidding me? Yours is the only birthday that we get to celebrate every year. Mine falls on the 29th of Feb, so it’s not like I have something to look forward to every year,” I say. “I’m going to throw you the party of all parties. Trust me, you’re going to love it. Okay?” “Well, I tried.” She grumbles. I shake my head and take a step back when the elevator finally opens with a ping and three or four men get out, giving me the exact same look the men standing around me did. “I’ll drop by to see you later in the evening.” I step in and push the button for my floor, the phone still glued to my ear. “Is there something you want? I can get it for you on my way there.”