What Do I Do
1045 Words
Eve
It's been a while. Flavian's not around as always. I haven't been out of the estate and I'm postponing my missions and avoiding school. I've been on the edge lately, mood swings I can't control. All of a sudden the bed is my comfort zone, and the pillows are portals to the dreamworld....
The amount of sleep I'm getting these days is suspicious. How did I even lose my championship as the greatest foodie of all time?
Was oat porridge always this nauseating?
I pushed aside the bowl of porridge in front of me and locked eyes with the only person I could talk to right now about my situation, Danielle.
At 29 Danielle was a general surgeon doctor and a university lecturer. I've known her since I was a kid. She was mom's cousin little sister, AKA my aunt. They were close but not quite, from what I've observed.
Right right I was at her house which wasn't really far from the estate.
Danielle had two children outside wedlock in her early twenties and for that single reason that shouldn't be a reason at all she was cut off by her parents, her family. Her siblings were the only ones she knew as family.
Her children were Fredrick and Eric , twins. Those two were the most quiet children I've seen. They said boys have it rough and tough in them but those two? Not sure if they even know how to throw hands at each other. I remember taking them to the family psychiatrist when I came around once to babysit them.
Thinking about them now I shook my silly head. "Where are the kids?" I asked Danielle as soon as she cleared out of the kitchen to settle in on a chair at the dinner table.
So this is what happens. Every time I come over she spoils me with too much food, something I don't get to enjoy at home because Madame Antoinette wants everyone to keep fit... most especially me. Danielle was a wonderful cook... she was qualified to be a chef even, but right now I was stuck staring at all her colourful, well-seasoned dishes laid out on the table, letting the irritation brewing from my stomach evaporate to my throat and when that tingly sensation clicked in I gagged in the process of holding it in.
"Oh they're in France with Cindy for a tour I suppose... are you alright—"
Alright. she said? Danielle had barely finished when I rushed out of my chair and made for the kitchen sink, and all at once I unloaded the contents choking my throat into the sink. My pulse got louder when I paused to stare at what I had just thrown up.
With shaky hands I turned on the faucet until everything cleared from my vision. Only then did I finally drag in a breath but the second I glanced behind, my breath hitched. Danielle had been watching me the whole time of course... but the way she was shooting her eyes at me hinted at suspicion.
"What?!" I raised a brow, making my way back to the dinner table as she squinted her eyes, never blinking.
"Have you seen your period this month or the last?"
Yes. good question. I almost forgot I'm just a girl... that's a really good question that I... I don't have an answer to. I slowly nodded like a lizard knowing fully well my wacky memory has no info of when I last saw my blood. It's nothing new... I'm part of the team that has irregular periods... very irregular.
"Alright then... tell me why the heir of the Waldorf has graced my home today."
In fact nothing is actually regular nor normal with a body that had been molded and modelled by the mafia for the mafia.
I'm not here as a friend but a patient.... so listen carefully because I'm about to faint aunty.
No joke... my head was spinning and I had the sudden urge to pee.
As I reunited with the chair, I drowned a glass of water.
"Doctor Elle I think I'm sick."
"It's more obvious than you think."
She remarked, smearing peanut butter on a slice of bread.
"My symptoms include dizziness, sleepiness, nausea, I can't eat chicken the same way again.... Emphasis on nausea!"
"I see," she slurped her tea loudly, eyes still searching mine with doubt.
Like what's going on?
Silence stretched out for a long duration and I was beginning to get nervous.
"Ahhh.. aunty??" I raised a brow.
When she finally batted her lashes she let out an awkward chuckle.
" I don't know. you seem....ahh pregnant" She stressed out with the last word.
Oh my...when did Danielle become a comedian? I didn't know when I started laughing but when I stopped I noticed that grimace look she wore.
"That's not possible and seriously you can't just tell if someone is pregnant by staring at them"
"You're no wrong tho... I'm only guessing"
She giggled again.
"Your jokes are quite expensive aunty" I narrowed my eyes to hers.
I still wanted to argue but she dragged me into her room and shoved a pregnancy test kit in my hands with a manual on "how to use".
I did wonder why she had something like this in her house. Was she seeing someone already?
By the time I was done in the bathroom, my body forgot how to function. I staggered out of the bathroom with the test stick that showed '+'.
And when my eyes met Danielle's I uselessly blurted, "Fuuuuuckkkk.... I'm pregnant."
"Oh my I'm surprised!" She jested and cracked up in a fit of laughter, plummeting on the bed.
My knees happened to gave out same way she plummeted into the bed, my arse hit the floor.
"I.... I... f****d up Elle. s**t. Shit.. s**t!!!" I kicked out my legs, grunting and clenching my bowed head.
" You f****d up bigggg time darling. You gonna tell me who's the father?"
Pinching the bridge of my nose I murmured the only name that comes to mind, naturally. "Flavian."
"Ridiculous. You mean Flavian Waldorf?"
I stared unwavering at Elle letting my silence whisper the answer.
What happens now?
What happens?
What...
- Writer
