Dark Obsession: The Billionaire's Possession

Positive

Episode 15: Positive

Three months after the book launch, I was throwing up in the bathroom.

Again.

Adrian knocked on the door. "Amara? You okay?"

"I’m fine," I lied. My voice came out shaky. "Just food poisoning."

"That’s the third time this week," he said. "Maybe we should see a doctor."

I flushed the toilet and washed my face. In the mirror, I looked tired. And scared.

The book was doing well. Book 2 was half written. Adrian’s company was stable. Amara’s mom had finally moved back to her own house.

Everything was perfect.

Too perfect.

"I’ll book an appointment," I said, opening the door. Adrian was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"Today?" he asked.

"Today."

The clinic was small and quiet. The nurse weighed me, took my blood pressure. Asked me questions I didn’t want to answer.

"Last period?"

I paused. "Six weeks ago."

She nodded and handed me a cup. "Bathroom’s down the hall."

Adrian waited in the lobby. He stood up when he saw me.

"What did they say?"

"Just a test," I said. "We’ll know in 10 minutes."

We sat in silence. His hand found mine. Squeezed.

"Amara," he said. "Whatever it is, we’ll handle it. Together."

I nodded. But my heart was beating too fast.

"Miss Okafor?" The nurse called my name.

We followed her into a small room. She closed the door.

"So," she said, smiling. "Your test is positive."

The word hung in the air.

Positive.

I stared at her. "Positive?"

"Yes," she said. "You’re pregnant. About 6 weeks."

The room went fuzzy.

Adrian didn’t make a sound. But his hand tightened around mine until it hurt.

"Are you sure?" I whispered.

"We can do a blood test to confirm," the nurse said. "And an ultrasound. But the test is very accurate."

I looked at Adrian. His face was blank. Shocked.

"Okay," I said. "Okay. Can we... can we do the ultrasound?"

The nurse led us to another room. Cold gel on my stomach. The sound of my own heartbeat on the machine.

And then.

A tiny flicker.

A tiny heartbeat. Fast. Strong.

"That’s the baby," the nurse said softly.

Tears fell down my face before I could stop them.

Adrian made a noise. Like he was choking. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"A baby," he whispered. "We’re having a baby."

We didn’t talk on the way home.

We got home and sat on the couch. Quiet.

"You’re mad," I said finally.

"What? No." Adrian turned to me. "I’m not mad. I’m terrified."

"Same."

"I wasn’t planning this," he admitted. "Not yet. I thought we had time."

"Me too," I said. "I thought I had time to finish book 2. To get my life together."

We both laughed. It came out wrong. Watery.

"What do we do?" I asked.

Adrian pulled me onto his lap. Careful. Like I might break.

"We do what we’ve been doing," he said. "We choose each other. We figure it out. One day at a time."

I cried then. Really cried. Into his shirt.

"I’m scared," I admitted. "What if I’m a bad mom? What if I mess this up?"

"What if you’re amazing?" he countered. "What if this baby is the best thing that ever happened to us?"

I looked up at him. "You’re not mad?"

"Amara," he said. "Three months ago I was in a hospital bed thinking I might never get to grow old with you. Now you’re telling me we get to grow old with someone else too. I’m not mad. I’m the luckiest man alive."

He kissed me. Soft.

That night I couldn’t sleep. I kept my hand on my stomach. Flat. There was nothing there yet. But there was someone.

At 2am, Adrian was still awake too.

"Can’t sleep?" he asked.

"What if we tell my mom?" I said. "She’s going to cry."

"She’s going to make 10 pots of soup," he said. "And tell everyone in church."

I laughed. "What about your board?"

"They can wait," he said. "This is more important."

The next morning, we told Amara’s mom over breakfast.

She dropped the spoon.

"Eh?!"

Then she started screaming. And crying. And praying.

"My grandchild!" she said, hugging me. "God is good!"

By noon, three aunties had called.

By evening, Adrian had bought three baby books and a crib from the store.

"I don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl," he said, looking at the tiny crib in our guest room.

"We have time," I said. "7 months."

Book 2 was forgotten for a week. Instead, I wrote in my journal.

`Day 1: We’re pregnant. I’m scared and happy and I don’t know how to feel both at once. Adrian keeps touching my stomach like he can’t believe it. I can’t either.`

`Day 3: First ultrasound picture is on the fridge. It looks like a bean. Adrian says it looks like me.`

`Day 7: Told the editor I need to push the deadline. She said congratulations and sent baby gifts.`

Two weeks later, we went for another scan.

This time Adrian talked the whole time. To the baby.

"Hey little one. This is your dad. Your mom writes books. She’s really smart. And she burns toast. Don’t tell her I said that."

The nurse smiled. "Dads are like that."

On the way out, Adrian stopped and bought me ice cream. Chocolate.

"For the baby," he said.

"For you," I said.

He shrugged. "For both of us."

That night, we lay in bed. His hand on my stomach.

"What if it’s twins?" I joked.

"Don’t even," he said, but he was smiling.

"What if it’s a girl?"

"Then she’ll be stubborn like you."

"What if it’s a boy?"

"Then he’ll be grumpy like me."

We were quiet for a while.

"Adrian?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For choosing us."

He kissed my hair. "Thank you for choosing me back."

Outside, Lagos was loud. Cars and music and life.

Inside, it was just us.

And the tiny heartbeat no one else could hear yet.

Chapter 2 was really starting now.