CATERINA


    “Hey, what are you looking at?”


    My heart just about jumps out of my chest as I quickly close my browser before turning in my chair to find Stephanie standing at the entrance of my cubicle. The way she lifts an eyebrow while folding her arms reminds me too much of my best friend–it hurts, since we haven’t spoken all week.


    I touch a hand to my chest,ughing. “You’re like a ghost, I swear. How are


    you so


    quiet?”


    “Maybe you were too busy looking at naughty things to notice meing up behind you.”


    “Naughty things?” The idea makes me giggle, because she could be further from the truth. It was dirty things that got me pregnant in the first ce. Now, I am reading advice columns and googling baby names when I should be working.


    “Nobody closes their browser that fast if they aren’t looking at something they shouldn’t be.”


    “Sorry to disappoint you<b>, </b>but I was reading junk on Reddit.” At least it’s a believable lie. “I don’t want to get caught screwing around.”


    “Who cares?” she sighs. <b>“</b>It’s Friday afternoon. Half the office is already gone for the day.”


    That’s a good point, and the only reason I had the spare time to screw around on the inte. It seems most of the managers and their assistants schedule their time around Fridays in the summer, cutting out around lunchtime if theye in at all. “It <b>is </b>nice, the office being this quiet. I could get used to it.” Even if I’d like to be one of the lucky ones who can sneak out with nobody minding. At least it makes the day easy and peaceful.


    “Althoughe September, the good times are over.<i>” </i>She leaves on that unhappy note, humming to herself as she sits in the next cubicle. I wonder why she interrupted me in the first ce. Maybe she’s bored. I’ll have to be more careful with my time if she’s going to be randomly popping over.


    Soon enough, I won’t have an option. Everyone will know. I smile to myself when I remember n walking me through the paperwork before I started, pointing out that I might be interested in their maternity leave policy one day. I could never have imagined I’d be interested in it this quickly.


    Everything’s happening so fast, yet I can’t say I’m unhappy about it. Now that I know Gianni wants the baby and is already nning on devoting a room to the nursery, it’s simpler for me to look forward to theing months. No, I still haven’t told Dad, and I have no idea how even to begin broaching the subject with him–maybe once I have an image from the ultrasound, I can show it to him. It’ll be more real, then. A picture of his grandbaby growing inside me.


    Of course, the doubt trickles in. What if he’s never happy about it? If he can’t ept it? That would leave me with a difficult decision, but only one choice makes any sense. I have to choose me and the family I’m growing. If he can’t love my baby because of who fathered them, that’s up to him. I won’t beg him to be a part of my life.


    I’m still mulling this over when my desk phone rings. I sit up straighter, expecting somebody to chew me out for wasting work time; that’s what guilt does to a person. It rings a second time, meaning the call ising from outside the office. No chance of getting chewed out.


    Tatiana’s number shes across the ID. My stomach starts to churn while I reach out with a shaky hand to pick up the receiver. Hey, What’s up?”


    “I…” Her voice is soft, low. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole all week.”


    (C


    “You haven’t been an asshole. Just quiet.” Honestly, she’s been avoiding me, but I’m trying to be understanding. “I’m not going to force you to see me or talk to me.”


    “I know. But I’m sorry, and I wanted you to know that. I’ve been thinking a lot this week, and I guess getting so upset on Sunday was childish. I’m sorry.”


    She has no idea how much I’ve wished to hear her say that. Aside from worrying about what Dad will think<b>, </b>her opinion has


    weighed heaviest on me. While Gianni and I lie in bed talking abou baby names, preschools<b>, </b>and <b>colleges</b>, there’s always that twinge of guilt <b>in </b>my mind. The guilt of knowing Tatiana is under the same roof we are, being miserable while we’re so happy. Gianni <b>told </b>me he <b>tried </b>to talk to her but, as I expected<b>, </b>she put up brick wall between them.


    “So long as you don’t hate me.”


    “I told you before that I don’t,” she reminds me. “I meant it. I just needed time to figure out my feelings. And I guess I can ept having a brother or sister. It might even be fun.”


    “I sure need you,” I whisper<b>, </b>blinking back tears. My emotions are all over the cetely. I guess I have to learn to get used to it while my hormones rage. “I can’t do this without you. I’m scared and excited and worried and overwhelmed.”


    “I’m here,” she assures me. “I can’t wait to spoil that kid rotten. Can you believe it? A big sister, at my age?”


    “That is sort of funny. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find the right guy soon and have a baby, too. Their aunt or uncle will barely be any older than they are.”


    “Girl, slow down. Not everyone is in a hurry to birth children.”


    “I wasn’t in a hurry,” I remind her. “Believe me, I didn’t n this.


    “I know. Sorry, that came out the wrong way. How about we go to dinner tonight and talk about it, and I can start nning the baby shower.”


    “Pump the brakes!” I’m caught betweenughing and crying out of sheer relief. “There’s a long time to go before we even have to start thinking about that.”


    “Do you think the best, biggest baby shower in the history of the world can be nned overnight? Get real. I’ll meet you in the parking garage of your job at five with a choice of themes, colors, and menus.”


    The thing is, I wouldn’t put it past her to do something like that. There are tears of relief welling in my eyes by the time I hang up. I didn’t know until now how scared I was that she wouldn’te around. I feel whole again with the Tatiana–sized piece of my heart back in ce.


    Before I forget, I send Gianni a text to let him know.


    Me: Guess what? Things are good with Tatiana – she wants to go to dinner tonight, so I’ll see you when we get home. She seems happy!


    I know how much it’ll mean to him<b>, </b>seeing that. Outsiders would never guess there’s a big heart beating under that cold exterior. He might not always know how to express himself, however he loves as fiercely as he fights. Maybe more so.


    Excitement for the future leaves me smiling like an idiot. I can’t wait to get home tonight so we can celebrate.


    ????


    “Five o’clock on the dot.” Tatiana grins, and I find her leaning against my car when I step into the garage. It’s mostly empty, a mute testament to the way the entire building cuts out early on Friday. Everybody except me. “Bad girl. You must’ve left your desk a minute or two early.”


    “Nobody’s around to care.” And I spent the past few hours willing the clock to move faster so I could see my best friend again. It took sheer willpower to stay in my chair as long as I did.


    “Where do you want to go for dinner?” She pushes <b>away </b>from the trunk, sliding her sunsses up onto her head. Her flowered sundress tells me she isn’t expecting anything fancy<b>, </b>but then again<b>, </b>neither am I.


    “I’m


    up


    for anything.” Dinner’s not the important part. We could go to a drive–thru, so long as she talks to me.


    “Maybe Italian?”


    “Sure. Two cars?”


    “Are you kidding?” <b>she </b>scoffs. “You’re the designated driver for the next… how many months will it be until you give me a sibling?”


    “Cute. You’ll still have to pick up your car.”


    She shrugs <b>it </b>off, rounding the back of the car on her way to the passenger seat. “Or I could send Roger over here to pick it up. It’s been too long since I’ve made him do anything for me.”


    “Yeah, I noticed you haven’t been as hard on him as you used to be” I observe her over the roof of the car, curious to see her


    reaction.


    I never get the chance.


    Caught up in the excitement of seeing her, I didn’t pay any attention to the ck SUV with tinted windows parked next to my car. Not until the back door opens, and a pair of arms shoot out, wrapping around Tatiana and pulling her into the car.


    My brain shuts down at the sight of it. Like I can’t handle what my eyes are telling me. Things like this don’t happen. This isn’t happening.


    Yet before I can suck in enough breath to scream, a man dressed in ck mps a cloth over her nose and mouth. All I see is her wide, terror–filled eyes before she’s pulled into the vehicle, feet kicking helplessly.


    I’m frozen. It’s like I’m watching from miles away, frozen in shock, refusing to believe what I’m seeing. It can’t take more than five seconds before she’s inside the SUV–then there’s a man rushing me, mping a cloth over my face. I know the smell. Luciano did the same thing to me when he took me from the restaurant. It’s sweet.


    How the fuck is this happening all over again?