Chapter 131

Emily

Being instantly met with faces that I would not associate with positive feelings of emotions, I suddenly feel overwhelmed with the sight that is laid before me. My stepmother and stepsister, Hannah and Chloe, smile at me from afar with champagne flutes in their hands, clapping along as the rest of the room erupts into cheers. There are people from the workplace here as well, such as Carla, but I would not even consider myself to be close to them either.

While I am appreciative that logan stepmother wanted to put on this event for me, I literally cannot help, but feel overwhelmed at the fact that people that I have butted heads with so many times in the past, hold major vendettas against, are here to celebrate my pregnancy and I. This was honestly the last thing that I ever wanted, and I can feel my brain and mind slowly tensing up from pure, unadulterated anxiety.

I tried to turn away, turning around to face Logan, who stands behind me, but he immediately places his hands on my waist, looking down at me with a confused expression on his face. I shake my head, holding onto the silent Hope that he will pick up on my anxiety and hesitation to even take a single step into his father's home, but he gently squeezes my sides instead and dips, his head down, his lips grazing my cheek before settling in the space beside my ear.

“It is going to be okay, Emily. We do not want to be seen as rude since my stepmother invited a few journalists here. I didn't know about them, so I couldn't warn you, I am so sorry,” Logan whispers into my ear.

“I hate you,” I breathe the words out as he turns me back around. He chuckles and I force a smile onto my face, one that is bright and fake with the hope that they won’t catch on to my dread.

Logan and I slowly descend into the main living space where the event is set up. Many women and men stand there with smiles on their faces and with an energy that I just can’t quite describe. I do not know whether it is welcoming or if my husband and I have willingly stepped foot into the lions den, ready to be eaten and ripped apart limb by limb.

“Thanks so much everyone! You really didn’t have to!” I force myself to laugh as a few people to decide to take pictures of us. I flinched from the flashes of light and turned my face away, turning to look at the people gathered in the center of the room.

I never wanted to have a baby shower. I especially didn't want an event like this to be public, either. It just feels as if I am still being used like a pawn in their game and I truly just want no part of it.

This whole situation feels icky. It feels icky in the way that the woman of the room have instantly attached themselves to my sides, drawing me away from Logan as the men of the room, pull him away with boxes of cigars in their hands. I suck in a breath and continue to wear a fake smile on my face, laughing along with their jokes about how I must be so tired and so surprised from the surprise.

“I remember my first pregnancy,” Logan's stepmother makes a comment. We sit down on the couches as somebody places a cucumber water in my hand. The glass is cool against my skin and I cling to it for as much support as I can get. “It was so hard! I remember feeling so bloated all of the time and needing to pee like every other second.”

The group laughs, and I forced myself to laugh along, taking a long sip of the water in my hands. I stare at the ice cubes and hold in a disappointed sigh, my heart beginning to slightly ache because it is my mom that I want to be here at my side instead of people who pretend to like me every chance they get.

“Pregnancy truly is the gift that keeps on giving,” Hannah, my stepmother, adds in. Her and logan's stepmother, clean their glasses together, and share a knowing laugh, nudging into each other as if they are old friends.

It is a horrible sight to see. Two people that I simply cannot stand, more, so Hannah than the other, cozying up to one another simply because they share a bond of pregnancy and motherhood. It makes me feel so sick to my stomach to know that my stepmother has the perfect opportunity to fill Logan's stepmother with nothing but lies and deceptions about who I am and my character.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and look around, answering every single one of their questions that they throw at me.

“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” one of them asks.

“I found out after I took a pregnancy test,” I nod my head, earning laughs from the rest of the room.

“Were you happy when you found out that you were pregnant? When did you tell Logan?” his stepmother asks me next.

“I…I felt a lot of emotions,” I slowly nod my head as I speak, unsure how to answer truthfully seeing how she knows about our contract, “and Logan found out on his own. I tried to make it a surprise, but you know how he is.”

I force a laugh out of my mouth. The rest of the room joins in, looking at each other and murmuring amongst themselves about Logan's character and how he acts. Always inquisitive and knows when somebody is bullshitting him.

Except, he can never really tell when it comes to me. I am his kryptonite when it comes to finding out the truth.

My heart races inside of my chest, beating at the speed of light. My hands grow clammy, and my head begins to throb, my stomach feeling so nauseous right now in this moment. I try to keep my composure, not wanting the group to see me falter in my space right now.

Especially Hannah. She is the last person out of the rest of the group that needs to know that I am slowly ripping at the seams, slowly falling apart at an event that is supposed to uplift me and make me feel better about myself, not slowly killing what is left of my soul.

“Do you know the gender of the baby yet?” Carla asks.

I can feel my heart stop beating inside of my chest. I immediately place my hands on top of my stomach and slowly push myself up to my feet. The group of women look up at me with the widened eyes, slightly confused expressions on their faces.

“Will you please excuse me?” I breathe out with a small laugh, slowly waddling away and towards an empty hallway where I can be alone and away from the rest of the room.

It is an overwhelming feeling to feel when you are the center of attention. I did not like all of the eyes on me, I did not appreciate any of the invasive questions that they asked, nor did I enjoy feeling like a cow on display for all to see.

I wish my mother were here. It should be her here with me instead of the rest of the woman in the room.