THE MAID'S BILLIONAIRE

Chapter Ten

Cindy ‘s POV

“It has been 10 long and agonizing days since I last saw Brian, and my life has become a miserable mess. Each passing day feels like a never-ending cycle of confusion and heartache. I returned from the mall with Janet, hoping to find him at home since it was the weekend, but to my dismay, he was nowhere to be found.

The worst part Is, I don’t know who to ask about Brian’s whereabouts. The people who might have some information are not easily approachable. Lisa, Thelma’s best friend, would likely know something, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. We had kept our relationship a secret, and I feared the potential consequences of revealing it to someone so closely tied to Thelma. Lisa had been distant and cold towards me lately, making it clear that our paths were not meant to intertwine. I couldn’t bear the thought of her confirming my worst fears about Brian avoiding me.

Today is Monday, and the household is running as usual. The maids bustle about, diligently attending to their tasks. Janet and I have been assigned the responsibility of cleaning all the rooms in the house—the Smiths’, Lisa’s, Thelma’s, and, of course, Brian’s.

Janet, being the thoughtful friend she is, offered to clean the girls’ rooms on my behalf. She knew how much it pained me to enter Thelma’s domain. So, I found myself alone, preparing to face the remnants of Brian’s presence in his room. As I stepped inside, a flood of memories rushed over me, filling the space with a bittersweet nostalgia. It was in this very room that we had shared laughter, secrets, stolen kisses and made love. But now, it only served as a painful reminder of his absence.

I noticed that his bed remained unmade, as if waiting for his return. A glimmer of hope sparked within me—perhaps he had been home all along and was intentionally avoiding me. The thought both lifted and shattered my heart simultaneously. “Was I so terrible that he had to shun me completely?” I pondered silently as I went about my cleaning duties.

With each stroke of the cloth and sweep of the broom, I felt a mix of emotions. Frustration, confusion, and sadness intertwined within me, creating an overwhelming sense of longing. I yearned for answers, for the assurance that this was all a misunderstanding. But as the minutes ticked by, doubt began to gnaw at my thoughts. What if he truly wanted nothing to do with me?

As I finished cleaning Brian’s room, my heart heavy with unresolved questions, I made my way to the kitchen. The comforting scent of food filled the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. But the moment I stepped into the room, a wave of nausea crashed over me. The once delightful aroma became a nauseating assault on my senses. I couldn’t bear to be near it.

With a surge of urgency, I hurried out of the kitchen, desperately seeking solace in the nearest bathroom. The sound of retching echoed in the small space as I emptied the contents of my stomach. It wasn’t much, considering I hadn’t been able to eat regularly since the day I discovered Brian’s avoidance.

After rinsing my mouth and wiping away the remnants of my distress, I composed myself and ventured back to the kitchen. The nauseating smell still lingered, but the overwhelming urge to vomit had subsided. I forced a smile as I greeted my mom, who stood at the counter dishing out food from a saucepan. “Good morning, Mom,” I mustered, trying my best to appear unaffected. Janet joined us,

Wrapping an arm around me in a comforting side hug.

We worked in silence, setting the table and serving breakfast. Janet and I sought refuge in her room afterward, where she wanted to spend some quality time together.

“How are you holding up?” Janet asked, her voice filled with genuine concern as she settled on her bed.

I shrugged, unsure of how to articulate the jumble of emotions inside me. “I honestly don’t know, Janet. I’m trying to stay positive and not jump to conclusions. I just hope to see Brian soon,” I replied softly, my voice laced with uncertainty.

Janet smiled sympathetically, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. She sensed my hesitation and attempted to shift the conversation to lighter topics. But amidst her words, a sudden wave of nausea surged through me once again. Sensing my distress, I swiftly excused myself and made a beeline for the bathroom, Janet closely following my every step. I doubled over the toilet, emptying my stomach for the second time within an hour. Exhausted and disheartened, I rinsed my mouth and turned to face Janet, my chest heaving with every breath.

“Don’t say anything, Janet. I already know what you’re thinking, but I’m certain this isn’t what’s happening,” I whispered, attempting to preempt her concerns. However, her worry could not be quelled.

“Cindy, what were you thinking? You might be pregnant! Please tell me you guys used protection,” Janet inquired, her voice laden with worry. I stubbornly tried to reassure both her and myself. “Look, Janet… I’ve been experiencing these symptoms for days now, but it could be a stomach problem or a manifestation of stress. You know how overwhelmed I’ve been lately,” I explained lamely, though deep down, I couldn’t ignore the unsettling possibility. If Janet noticed the fragility of my explanation, she made no mention of it. All she said was, “Well, let’s hope it’s one of those explanations, because if it turns out to be a pregnancy, things won’t end well if the Smiths and your mom find out."

Her words sent a jolt of panic through me. “I know… What about me? I’m definitely not ready to be a mother, and I highly doubt Brian is prepared either,” I uttered frantically, tears streaming down my face.

“Cindy, calm down. I understand this is an unexpected situation, but let’s not jump to conclusions until we are certain. And remember, I’ll be right by your side every step of the way,” Janet consoled, gently wiping away my tears and enveloping me in a comforting hug.

Days later, I found myself standing in the pharmacy’s washroom, clutching a pregnancy test kit tightly in my trembling hands. Janet stood just outside the door, giving me the space I needed while remaining within arm’s reach. I carefully read the instructions, following each step meticulously. The manual instructed me to wait for five agonizing minutes—an eternity in my current state.

With bated breath, I whispered a silent prayer, hoping that the heavens would hear my plea. Taking a deep breath, I summoned the courage to glance at the test. Two red lines stared back at me, sending shockwaves of realization through my fragile heart. For a brief moment, I was frozen in disbelief. “Oh God, this can’t be happening,” I murmured, my voice barely audible as tears welled up in my eyes. Collapsing to the ground, I allowed myself to cry, to grieve for the dreams that were now shattered.

Janet, despite the locked door, managed to enter the restroom and knelt beside me, offering a steady presence in my moment of despair. We remained

There, huddled together, as I released my pent-up emotions in a torrent of tears. Eventually, I managed to regain some semblance of composure, wiping away the evidence of my pain.

We left the pharmacy in solemn silence, making our way back home. When we entered the kitchen, my mom’s questioning gaze met us. “Where have you two been?” she inquired, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Stammering nervously, Janet replied, “Um, Auntie, we were in my room, just talking.”

My mom’s scrutiny intensified, but to my surprise, she refrained from pressing further and returned to her dinner preparations. Janet and I exchanged relieved glances, grateful for the reprieve, and joined my mom in helping with the meal.

The day dragged on, with no sign of Brian. The weight of uncertainty pressed upon me, growing heavier with each passing moment. What if he never came back? What would become of us? As night fell, my mom and I retired to our quarters, preparing ourselves for rest. But sleep eluded me.

I tossed and turned, my mind consumed by thoughts of the baby growing inside me and the uncertain future that awaited us. As a mere maid, my wages were barely enough to sustain myself, let alone provide for another human being. And the fact that I was only eighteen added another layer of complexity to the situation. I lay awake for hours, contemplating my options and grappling with the overwhelming responsibility that had been thrust upon me.

The next morning, I awoke at the ungodly hour of 5:30 am, overcome by a familiar sensation of unease. For the second time in as many days, I rushed to the bathroom, emptying my stomach until there was nothing left to expel. Exhausted and weary, I brushed my teeth once more and took a quick shower, mentally preparing myself for whatever the day had in store.

As I stood there, damp and disheveled, I couldn’t help but wonder how my life had taken such an unexpected turn. With each passing day, the realization of the challenges ahead weighed heavily upon me, but deep within me, a flicker of determination ignited. I knew that regardless of the obstacles that lay before me, I had to find the strength to face them head-on—for my sake and for the life growing within me.