Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 154

"What!" I gasp, shocked, but then I get very angry very fast, ripping my arm out of Jerome's hand for the third time in about an hour. "I don't even know if there is a father, Jerome!" "Of course there's a father -" he shouts, his voice cracking because apparently he's as freaked out as I am.

"I don't even know if there's a baby!" I yell in response, gesturing fervently at the pregnancy tests.

"Ohhh my god," he groans, sinking back on his own a*s and putting his head in his hands. I glance around briefly at the other customers who studiously avoid our aisle but don't hesitate to glance down it, their eyes wide and curious. I bury my instinct to snarl at them all to go f**k themselves and turn my attention back to Jerome.

"Seriously, Fay," he says, raising his eyes to look at me with sorrow and worry all over his face. "Who is the father? Is it Ivan? Because -"

"Oh my god, Jerome," I snap, leaning forward to smack him hard on the arm. "Of course it's not Ivan - you know that I've only been sleeping with Kent!"

"I don't know that, Fay," Jerome growls between his teeth, saying my name like it's a curse. "You've had plenty of time alone with Ivan to get knocked up! It's the only thing that makes sense, considering Kent's vasectomy!"

I stare at him, my mouth dropping open a little. "How do you know about that?"

"Everyone knows about that!" Jerome shouts, throwing his hands wide. "Do you seriously think Kent has kept it a secret? All the women he's brought around - you think he hasn't made it clear to all of them, to everyone, that trying to trap him into childcare payments for the next eighteen years isn't going to work?"

"Well, I don't know then!" I cry, throwing my hands in the air, starting to freak out more that Jerome is starting to freak out. "It's a miracle then! Or maybe it's the second coming of Jesus! Or maybe I'm sick! All I know is that I have only ever slept with Kent, and now I haven't gotten my period in six weeks - and that's literally all I -"

"Are you SERIOUS Fay!?" Jerome shouts. "Six WEEKS!? What the hell have you been doing!?"

My temper breaks and I snap my mouth shut, leaning forward fast to shove him, hard, knocking him back flat on the ground.

"Fuck off, Jerome," I growl. "You don't get to say a god damn thing to me about this."

And then I push myself to the feet, grabbing the keys from the ground where they've spilled out of his hand and grabbing a pregnancy test - any pregnancy test - off the shelf and storming towards the front of the store as Jerome just lays there, staring at the ceiling, apparently having his own stress-induced mental breakdown.

But I come up short a few seconds later and have to slowly turn and wait as the tears again start to roll down my face. It takes three whole minutes for Jerome to walk out of the aisle, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging. He stops in surprise when he sees

me.

"What?" he asks, glaring at me a little. "Why are you still here? I thought you'd take the car and be gone."

I heave a heavy sigh and shrug, my mouth starting to tremble again as I look helplessly at him, the keys in one hand, the pregnancy test in the other.

"I don't have any money," I admit, my words squeaky and trembling as they fall from my lips.

Jerome tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second, taking a deep breath. "Rich girls," I hear him murmur. "Why do rich girls...never have any money."

But then he brings his head back down and looks at me, and I start to cry harder when I see the sympathy in his eyes. And my friend walks forward and wraps an arm around my shoulders as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Come on, Fay," he sighs, leading me forward to the scandalized teller. "I've never bought you a drink, so I guess a pregnancy test will have to do instead."

A little laugh sputters from me as I place the test on the counter and Jerome gives me a little squeeze.

"It'll be all right, kid," he whispers to me. "We'll get it all worked out."

Jerome wanted me to take the pregnancy test there in the pharmacy bathroom, but my shocked "ew" had him rolling his eyes and escorting me to the car. He tried to talk me into probably a hundred other places to take it, but I shook my head to each one. I understand his point - that we need to figure this out privately before we decide what to do - but quite frankly I'm shaking so hard right now that I can't imagine being anywhere but home. I want the calm privacy of my own little white bathroom. I don't think... well, I don't think I'll be able to go anywhere else.

Jerome is obviously tense as we pull through the gate and into the garage. He turns to me as he shuts the car's engine off. "We need to get upstairs fast but inconspicuously," he says, thinking aloud as I clutch the little paper bag that holds my fate. "Don't act like anything's wrong," he advises, "but we're going to move fast and talk to as few people as possible. Okay?"

"Okay," I say, nodding fast, my breath shaking a little.

Then he nods to me and we both get out of the car, heading swiftly for the door to the house.

Luck is on our side - at least in this, if nothing else. We see a few of the usual people as we pass through the hallway, past the closed door to Kent's office. But as we hurry up the stairs, no one takes any particular notice of us.

Jerome strides into my room first and I scurry after him, breathing out a big breath of relief as I press the door shut and quickly flick the lock. I turn and head towards the bedroom but stop when I hear a buzzing noise.

"What?" I ask, going still and staring at Jerome as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at it.

"Nothing," he murmurs, starting to type something and then briefly flicking his chin towards my bathroom door. "Go," he says before looking back down at his phone. "It's just Daniel - it's seriously nothing."

Hesitating, because everything in my life right now feels like a bomb about to go off, I hurry into the bathroom and close the door behind me. Then, my hands shaking like they've never done before, I quickly pull the pregnancy test out, rip open the box, and start to read through the instructions. Because obviously I've never done this before, and I want to get it right.

Once I think I understand how to do this, I quickly move to the toilet, holding the little test shakily in my hand as I work at the button at the top of my tight riding pants.

What happens if I like...drop the stick in the toilet?

Or if I...don't aim right? And miss the stick entirely? How will we get another one before -

But I groan at myself, sick of my stupid brain and all of my anxieties. Frustrated, I yank my pants down before sitting down on the toilet. Because honestly, it can't be that hard, and if I can't do this...

But I almost do drop the test in the water after I've finished, because a sudden knock comes at the outer door of my room. I go still with sudden fear.

Because whoever is at my door now - they're going to know something's wrong. My door is never locked in the middle of the day, especially not with Jerome trapped in here with me.

Desperate to know, I anxiously place the pregnancy test on the counter by the sink, refasten my pants and pull open the door to my bathroom.

To my shock, I see Jerome already at the crack to my bedroom door, arguing vehemently with someone in hushed tones.