His Wine Cost More Than My Unborn Child Chapter 07

His Wine Cost More Than My Unborn Child Chapter 07

My days started looking like Corbin’s. Leaving early. Coming home late.

On top of my shifts at The Velvet Room, I started picking up temp warehouse shifts.

Before long, I was getting home even later than Corbin.

He stopped asking why.

We lay in the same bed, back to back. In silence.

I knew he reached for me more than once.

Every time, I edged a little farther away.

One more inch, and I would’ve fallen off the bed.

My grandmother survived the surgery.

When she came to, she called me using Uncle Boyd’s phone.

She said she knew I had no money. She said she’d lived long enough. Didn’t want treatment

anymore.

From the background, Uncle Boyd shouted, “No way! You’re getting treated!”

“If you just die, then fine, it’s over. But if you don’t get treated now, you’ll be paralyzed for life.”

“Your precious granddaughter’s out there living the good life in the city, and you’re just gonna dump all this on us?”

Then he snatched the phone away.

“The doctor said she needs some kind of joint replacement surgery.”

“I asked around. It’s gonna run about a hundred grand. So get the money together. Fast.”

“I’m telling you now. If she ends up paralyzed, we’re not taking care of her.”

“If you don’t pay, your aunt and I aren’t setting foot in that hospital again.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. My nails bit into my palms, drawing blood.

“Give me a little time,” I whispered. “I’ll get the money.”

“Soon as you can. The hospital won’t wait.”

After the call ended, I took several slow breaths.

I wiped away my tears, forced a smile, and turned around.

A man was standing behind me. Watching me.

I had no idea how long he’d been there.

The hallways at The Velvet Room were covered in thick carpet. You never heard anyone coming.

“I’m sorry, sir.” I dropped my head at once.

We weren’t supposed to take personal calls on shift.

And the clients here-they were the kind of people I couldn’t afford to offend.

He kept looking at me. After a long moment, he let out a quiet laugh.

“You know, it used to be the classic line. Gambling dad, sick mom, kid brother in school, broken

home.”

“Every poor girl had the same sob story. Thought that one went out of style.”

His smile widened.

“So what’s your next move? Gonna start turning tricks?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll sell blood.”

The words came out before I could stop them.

I guess when you’re pushed to the edge, you stop thinking.

I wasn’t even thinking about what might happen. Getting fired. Dragging Tamsin into trouble.

The second the words left my mouth, regret hit.

“I’m sorry, sir. I spoke without thinking. It won’t happen again.”

He waved it off.

“Alright, alright. Relax. I’m not that petty.”

I bowed my head and hurried away.

After work, I stopped Tamsin and told her what had happened.

She thought for a beat.

“Don’t stress about it. Not every customer here is that petty.”

I twisted the hem of my shirt between ny fingers. Then I looked at her.

“Can I stop doing the server work?”

She met my eyes. She knew exactly what I meant.

“I know you need money. Did you tell Corbin about your family?”

“I did. I tried to borrow twenty thousand from him. He said he couldn’t help.”

A mocking smile flickered across Tamsin’s face, then vanished just as fast.

“Let me think about it.”

She paused. “Look-we’re from the same hometown. I’ll try my best to keep you out of the hell.”