Callous Heir (The Heirs 5)

“Yeah,” I agree.

Carla’s been attending Trinity for almost six weeks. She should’ve adjusted by now.

My gut knows the reason already, but my mind’s not so sure.

I’ve purchased a pack which contains three tests, just to be sure of the result. The box says it can give an accurate result six days before a period is due, so we should know the outcome today.

Walking into Carla’s room, I lock the door behind me before I move to the side of the bed. Sitting down, I stare at her sleeping face.

No matter the outcome, I’ll be here for her.

I feel a twinge of panic, not because our future might change in a couple of minutes, but because I’m not sure how Carla’s going to handle the news.

Leaning over her, I press a kiss to her forehead, then to her cheek, and finally to her lips. Pulling back, I murmur, “Time to get up.”

Carla turns onto her back and stretches.

My gaze drops to her exposed stomach, and lifting my hand, I brush my fingers over her warm skin.

There’s a foreign sensation in my chest. Something akin to an ache… wanting more… wanting it all with Carla.

When her gaze settles on mine, I murmur, “Sit up.”

She scoots up against the pillows. I reach for her hand and fold my fingers over hers.

Facing the situation head-on, I say, “Your period is late.” I know this because I was deep inside her last night. “I got a box with three pregnancy tests.”

Carla’s eyes widen, and then a frown forms. “I’m probably just late from the stress.”

“I still want you to take them.” I bring up the box from where I kept them hidden next to me. “Please.”

The moment Carla’s gaze locks on it, anxiety blooms over her face.

Lifting my hand, I frame her cheek. “Look at me.” Her eyes dart to mine. “We’re going to be fine, whatever the outcome.”

Carla swallows hard before she scoots off the bed. I walk to the bathroom with her and place the box on the counter. Taking hold of her jaw, I press a kiss to her lips, then say, “Let me know when you’re done.”

As I leave and pull the door shut behind me, my last view is of Carla staring at the box as if it’s a death sentence. I almost cave and go back in, but knowing she needs privacy, I go sit on the edge of the bed.

Ten minutes pass excruciatingly slowly, and I’m just about to knock on the door when it opens.

Carla looks pale as she steps aside. “It says we have to wait three minutes.”

Taking hold of her arm, I pull her back into the bathroom with me. Carla turns her back to the three tests, hiding her face against my chest. She wraps her arms around my waist. My eyes stay glued to where the lines will appear while I hold Carla tightly.

As the seconds tick by, I begin to hear my heart beating, and my grip on Carla tightens.

The lines begin to appear, faint at first, but they quickly darken on all three tests. I take a deep breath before I pull a little back from Carla. When I frame her face, her eyes dart to mine.

Not wasting time, I say, “You’re pregnant.” Only then does it settle in my chest, and I feel a burst of unexpected happiness. The corner of my mouth lifts, “We’re going to have a child.”

Carla’s lips part as a sharp burst of air explodes from her. She begins to shake her head, her face paling, then she begins to ramble, “I didn’t plan this. I promise.” A sob escapes her. “God, my dad’s going to kill us. We’re dead.”

I lean down to catch her eyes. “We’re going to be fine. The flu you had probably affected the pill. I should’ve known that.”

Tears begin to gather in her eyes, making them shine like ember stones.

“As for your father, I’ll deal with him. Don’t worry about it.”

Carla nods but then shakes her head again. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s going to lose his shit.”

“I can handle it,” I reassure her. I pull her back to my chest and press kisses to her hair while she clings to me as the news sinks in. My lips curve up again. “You’re carrying my child. It’s earlier than I would’ve liked, but nonetheless, I’m happy.”

Carla pulls back, her eyes snapping up to mine. “Happy?” She sucks in a trembling breath. “You’re happy?”

She turns to the tests and her gaze darts over them. “I’m eighteen, Noah. I still have four years of school ahead of me. How am I going to do this?” Her hands lift to cover her mouth. “God, I’m going to be a single mother at eighteen… nineteen. My parents. The media. The other students…” She covers her face as a sob shudders through her.