Ana's POV

"Now why would you think I'll obey that," he murmurs, his voice sounding close, much to my dismay.

I swerve in doubt and I'm startled to see him standing behind me in a long-sleeved blue checkered shirt tucked into a pair of black suit pants, the matching jacket hanging on one shoulder and black tie loosened on his neck exposing his chiseled chest made visible by the two unclasped buttons.

"How---" I begin in inquiry, rather he cuts my statement shut.

"Simple." He shrugs, "I wedged it with my foot.

"Fuck!" I groan. "Why didn't I think of that."

"I don't know," he scoffs.

"I should have shut it faster and harder then," I muse a little too loud than expected because his smirk certainly indicates he heard me.

"Like the way I fucked you?" He questions, his mouth tilting at the side.

"Why are you here Ike?" I ask, ignoring his jeer, as I place a palm on my right hip.

"You look hot," he comments, accessing me, his eyes roaming from my face down to the curves of my waist till my toes before meeting mine again in a smile.

Concealing a blush, I snort and act nonchalant as if unaffected by his words. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Isn't it obvious?" He polls and lets down his muscular build in an armchair.

"No, it's not," I shake my head not understanding what he means.

"I'm here to take you for antenatal," he states, gazing at me as if dumb.

"Isn't it obvious?" I implore, throwing his words back at him.

"What's obvious?" He quizzes in confusion.

"I'm not going," I smirk leaving him in shock as I amble my way to the couch facing him.

"Come on don't do that Ana," he grunts, bending forward in his seat.

"Do what?" I ask, imitating his position.

"Be stupid. I thought we've agreed on this," he utters, his stare unwavering.

"Yeah, we did," I agree. "Until you let that unfiltered mouth of yours loose and vomited a lot of nonsense in my face."

"Fuck it, Ana," he grumbles, rising abruptly. "Don't act so stubborn."

"I'm acting stubborn," I laugh hysterically.

"Yes, you are!" He bellows, peering down at me.

"I'm countering your words and you say I'm acting stubborn? I'm letting my feelings known to you and instead of you apologize you have the guts to say I'm acting stubborn?" I interrogate, my tone full of amazement as I gape at him.

"But you slapped me, aren't you supposed to apologize too?" He argues, his stance one of anger.

"No I shouldn't," I assert. "That action was steered by your hurtful utterance."

"I know I'm wrong Ana and I apologize but I can't seem to handle my feelings or behavior when I'm with you. You drive me insane. Our relationship is immoral and against society, I know that too, and I've tried, struggled to stay away from you. Say hurtful things to make you hate me even, instead, it always comes back to me. I'm the one who gets hurt in the end. You are like a drug Ana and I'm addicted to you." He rants, his fingers going to weave their way into his hair in noticeable irritation.

"So I've decided to change, to make you feel wanted, I love you, Ana, if not for anything forgive me for the sake of our baby. I'm sorry babe." He begs, pausing to lend me a pleading glance.

"What about Emily?" I investigate my heart squeezing in the pain that I can't have him to myself. It's a curse, one that I pray I'm able to bear.

"I don't know love," he moans in sadness. "But I promise things will work out soon."

"I hope they do," I nod and pray God forgives our sins and lets us have a happy ending because from where I'm sitting, it's a very dark tunnel and I still can't see the light.

"So will you go with me to go see the doctor?" He doubts.

"Give me one immediate reason why I should follow you," I beam, slanting my head to the side, my packed weaves falling on my right shoulder.

"I'll get you ice cream on our way back," he convinces.

"Then you've got yourself a deal," I smile. "Let me go shower, I'll be right back."

"And I'll be here waiting," he informs as I pick up my bag and walk to my room.

*****

I emerge out of the room clad in a white thigh-length gown made to look like a shirt and red Nike sneakers which are the same color as the rose embedded on the left side of my dress.

I slant my shoulder-length red satchel across my chest and clear my throat to make my presence known thus his orbs are concentrated on his cell phone.

As I expected his eyes shift at the sound to land on me and I notice them widen a little before he mutters a "damn."

"Can we?" I invite, motioning for him to stand.

"Yup," he nods hastily and gets up to open the door for me. "Ladies first."

"You know you shouldn't do that right?" I contend after I'm outside and he closes it behind him. "This is my house."

"Is it a crime if I want to?" He opposes and leads the way to his black Ferrari.

"Why did you come with this one?" I question, peeking at the vehicle in wonder.

"I love the trill," he answers. "Besides, I know you love the sound and speed of the engine."

"You don't seem to forget things do you?" I query in a smile.

"Memories concerning you are kept safely in my mind. I wouldn't want to lose a single second of them," he says and strolls to the machine simply like he didn't just set my heart on fire with that sentence.

I take a long and deep breath to still my unsteady emotions and shut my eyes and open them after a few seconds. When I feel I'm emotionally and mentally stable, I trace my steps to the passenger side and tug it open.

The instant I'm settled, he swerves the car rapidly, burning tires in the process, and drives straight towards the gates which open automatically to let us through unto the estate roads.

A minute or two later we exit the area, and I can't stop the smile from materializing on my lips as the vehicle cuts its way sharply through the busy town freeways, the breeze blowing sharply in my face, while I sniff the fast-moving air through my half-closed window.

We don't exchange words as we are both lost in our thoughts and the darkness of our minds, him focused on his driving and me gazing out the window at the hustle and bustle of the city at this time of day.

"Have you been to God's grace hospital?" He consults, cutting the silence-filled environment.

"No," I declare, turning to stare in his path.

"Well, that's one of the hospitals I own, among many others," he tells taking a corner down a quiet street.

"I don't know what to say," I voice. "Just that you've done well for yourself and I'm happy you are finding a way to give back to society."

"And you ask why I love you," he murmurs, grinning.

"I don't understand," I confess, my orbs fixed on him.

"Most ladies would disagree with you on that," he snorts. "Emily included."

"What do they say?" I investigate, wanting to know more.

"That I should have used the money for something else, not something I won't get an income from." He replies, offering me a glimpse before his stare goes back to the road ahead.

"They must be heartless then," I utter bluntly, and place my palm on his lap causing him to shake a bit. "Don't give them a listening ear."

"Yes ma'am." He smiles, and horns at a long metal gate with the name 'God's grace hospital' written boldly in white paint on it. "We are here."

"I can see that," I mock as who seems to be the gateman pushes it open and he ushers the car onto the German floored space to park in front of the two-storied building with white pillars.

Turning off the engine, he unlocks the doors and we both dismount attracting the attention of everyone around. I lower my head slightly in embarrassment and fear of exposure, as I stroll beside him to the entrance.

"Ignore them," he advises and guides me into the hospital, his palm securely on my back.

We make our way through the receptionist table, the outpatient department, waiting room, and straight up the stairs to where I am guessing the attendance wards are situated.

He shoves the door of a room that states ward 3 and we proceed inside to see an attractive fair-skinned lady of presumably forty-one crouching in a seat as she reads a paper in her palm.

She observes us as the door shuts and pulls down her black-rimmed glasses, a simple flower blouse, and black trousers covered by her white lab coat.

"Took you long enough," she mumbles, lifting her body from the chair.

"You won't understand," Ike responds. "Ana, meet Helena, the head doctor of this hospital."

"Pleased to meet you doctor Helena," I greet, extending my arm for a shake.

"Please, just Helena," she disagrees, slapping my arm softly to pull me in for a hug. "Any friend of Ike is like family to me."

I bestow Ike a look from her shoulder that reads, "I thought I was the only one who called you that apart from your mom."

"Helena and I go way back," he answers. "She's the one who handled my mother after her accident."

"Your mother had an accident?" I poll after she releases me.

"Yeah, some  years ago. I was a teenage boy then," he asserts.

"Anyway," Helena calls. "Let's get you set up. Ike tells me you are 3 months gone, so I'll need you to lay straight on the bed."

I obey and do as I'm told by lying flat on the hospital bed, my eyes taking in the interior painting which is the same as that of the exterior. I appreciate how the strong scent of disinfectant doesn't reek in the air, probably because this is not a general ward. The colorful flowers fitted into the glass vase adding a soft appearance to the room.

She comes forward and lifts my wrist to check my pulse. "Open up," she urges and I do, for her to insert the thermometer to check my temperature.

"That's good," she utters after she retrieves it to see the reading. She then goes on to check my blood pressure, respiration,  oxygen level, sugar level and takes a blood sample which I'm assuming is to analyze my blood percentage.

"You are wearing undies right?" She inquires and I nod, flushing as Ike winks at me.

"I'll need you to raise your cloth then," she tells and I oblige her, while I hide my blush. She then applies ky gel and checks the heartbeat of the baby with the doppler fetal monitor. "It seems fine to me. I'll also like you to take a piss."

"Okay, where's the bathroom?" I question and put down my dress, prompting Ike to frown and I roll my eyes.

"That way," she indicates, pointing at a door. I follow through it and shut it after me to pee in the container provided. Thankful I didn't have to force it or take time while at it, I rinse my palms and return to hand over the instrument to her.

"I'll be back in 30 minutes tops," she informs and heads for the door. "The lab scientists need to do their job a little."

"We'll wait," I smile and rest on the bed with Ike coming to seat at my side.

"Everything will be alright," he assures, and I'm in shock at how he can sense my nervousness.

"How did you know?" I quiz as I peer at him.

"You are rubbing your left arm with your right palm. It's a habit I've noticed you do when anxious." He confides.

"Thank you for being here," I murmur in gratitude for his presence beside me at a time like this despite our messed-up relationship.

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