The next month went by pretty quickly. I didn't even have to try to avoid Markus as much since he was starting to get busier with meetings with clients and potential investors.

I worked up the courage to tell Julien a week later. As imagined, it did not go well. He wasn't angry or anything. In fact, he was supportive, but he said he wouldn't be able to handle the triangle that would potentially develop. With a kid in the middle, it would be best for him to stay out of it. Yes, it hurt, but it made sense.

I hated all of this. My life was ruined, at least as far as I could tell. I wanted to be a writer, and this job got my foot in the door. Then I sleep with my boss, which we both could have gotten over eventually, but nope, the universe thought of a cruel joke to ruin my life. What could I possibly have done to deserve a baby by a man who doesn't even respect me as a person, let alone a writer.

Thanks to the busy month, we haven't had any personal interaction for him to even notice anything weird. Still, unfortunately, others in the office have. Some have said things to be, but it is getting harder to lie to them or at least for them to believe me. I am four months along now which means I am starting to show. I've been hoping that people will just think I've gained weight and not mention it and praying even more that Markus just doesn't notice and start asking questions. I know he will think it's Julien's, but if Julien doesn't come around for so long, he will know something is up.

Unfortunately, life doesn't work the way you want.

Unwillingly Markus and I had to go out together for another meeting. We had done everything we could to avoid one of these kinds of meetings since we had to sit in a car together for some time to get to the said destination, but this one could not be avoided. As we rode in the company car, a horrible smell seeped through the car. It wasn't a horrible smell just to my pregnancy nose; it was too much to handle. You can guess what happened next — yep, I threw up. I begged the driver to stop and stuck my head out the door.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," I responded once I'd finished my puking. He sounded genuine in his concern but its always hard to tell with him; even after four months of knowing the man,

"Are you sure? You look sick. Do you want to go to the hospital?"

"You are overreacting. I puked; people puke; it's not a big deal."

"But people don't just puke randomly. With no warning, unless they are sick and if you are, you should have told me I wou—"

"Markus, I'm pregnant. We drove through a smell. It made me sick now; please drop it." There I told him. Nothing more to do.

"O-oh, well, congratulations to you and Julien."

What I should have said:

'It isn't Julien's. It's yours. I'm a little over four months along. Julien and I broke up because of it.'

What I actually said:

"Thank you, now. Can we just focus on preparing for this meeting?"