Weight of Suspicion

**Tessa’s POV**

The warmth of Ruby’s arm around my shoulders felt like a lifeline, but my stomach immediately betrayed the comfort. The heavy bass of the club’s sound system vibrated through the floorboards, settling directly in my gut. A fresh wave of nausea hit me so hard my vision blurred. I pulled away from Ruby’s grip, slapped a hand over my mouth, and bolted for the restroom.

I slammed the stall door shut and dropped to my knees. The cold porcelain offered no comfort as I emptied whatever little I had managed to keep down. It was the fourth time today. My chest heaved. I gasped for air, wiping my mouth with a trembling hand.

"Are you sick again?" Ruby’s voice filtered through the wooden door. She sounded annoyed, but I heard the underlying concern.

I leaned my forehead against the metal toilet paper dispenser, keeping my eyes shut. My body felt close to giving up. I had been dealing with this sickness for three straight months. I kept telling myself it was just exhaustion. I worked too many shifts and ran on fumes.

"Don't worry, it's nothing!" I yelled back. My voice cracked. I pushed myself off the floor, flushed, and stumbled over to the sink. I grabbed the bottle of mouthwash from my locker stash, poured a generous amount into a cup, and gargled to kill the vile taste.

Going home was not an option. Even if I felt like I was standing on the edge of death, I had to push through. Rent was due. I had no safety net. While the other girls had families to call when things got rough, I had no one. I was entirely on my own, just as I had always been. I knew Ruby or Luna would spot me the cash if I asked, but my pride simply would not let me. I was an adult. I should have been able to keep a roof over my own head without begging my friends for handouts.

The bathroom door creaked open. Ruby leaned against the frame and crossed her arms. "I told you not to eat that bread with Cheetos. You always eat the most disgusting things, Tessa."

I spit out the mouthwash, rinsed the sink, and forced a bright smile. "It's not disgusting. I saw it on a Colombian cooking channel. It is safe."

Ruby scrunched her nose, shaking her head. "Girl, I know you are desperate to learn Spanish and connect with your culture, but maybe we should save the recipes for when you actually understand what they are saying."

"Alright, I will ask Luna next time," I pouted, playing up the annoyance to deflect her concern. It worked. Ruby rolled her eyes and headed back out.

I stared at my reflection. My skin lacked its usual color. Dark circles bruised the skin under my eyes. I splashed cold water on my face and walked out.

The next evening, I felt worse than the day before. My muscles ached, my head pounded, and the nausea was a heavy stone in my stomach. Still, I showed up to work, determined not to miss a single dollar.

I stood in the center of the cramped dressing room, struggling to pull the zipper up on my favorite set. The outfits I wore usually hugged my body perfectly, but tonight, the fabric dug painfully into my waist. I tugged at the material, frowning at the tight pinch across my stomach. I turned sideways, analyzing my profile in the full-length mirror.

"Luna, do I look fat?" I asked.

Luna sat at the vanity, applying her lipstick. She paused, turned her head in my direction, and took a long look at my stomach. She shrugged. "No, but you gained a bit of weight. Looks good on you, though."

She turned back to the mirror, oblivious to the impact her words had. My stomach did a flip. I had been on a strict diet for months to maintain my figure for this job. There was no logical reason for me to gain weight.

"Girl, you just gained weight. You're not pregnant, stop overreacting," Luna laughed. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the dressing room, leaving me alone.

The door clicked shut.

The air grew suddenly thin. My legs lost all their strength. I fell to the floor, burying my head between my hands.

This could not be happening.

This could not be happening.

But there was no other explanation for the symptoms I was experiencing. There was no other explanation for me gaining weight or throwing up several times a day. Three months of relentless sickness. Unexplained fatigue. The math was undeniable. Every sign pointed toward one terrifying reality. There was no reason other than me being pregnant.

"No, Tessa. Stop overreacting. You are not pregnant," I whispered to the empty room.

I forced myself up from the floor and looked into the mirror one more time. No matter how much I tried to convince myself it was impossible, the truth stared right back at me. All the signs led to this. I felt something wet on my cheek. I reached up and realized I was crying.

I could not be pregnant. I just could not. There was only one person who could be the father. That person was the man who would not even give me the time of day. The man who refused to give me a single glare when he walked past me. He acted as if nothing had ever happened between us.

Alessio Marchese.

We had one night. One stupid, reckless night three months ago.

What would he say if he found out I was pregnant? He would tell me to get an abortion. Yes, a hundred percent. What else would he say when he still had his entire life to live which could not be ruined by a baby of some low-life dancer. He would probably force me to a clinic himself.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. Panic spiked. I quickly wiped away my tears and tried to force a smile onto my face.

The door swung open. "Tessa, are you c—"

I turned around to look at Ruby. She wore a confused expression. Unfortunately, she could see right through my act like she always did.

"Are you crying?" she asked.

I shook my head and grabbed her hand. "I'm not. There was something stuck in my eye. Let's go."

We walked out of the dressing room together with locked arms. We fell into some useless conversation about the club. I was so deep in my own spiraling panic that I did not watch where I was going.

I crashed against a body as hard as stone.

The impact knocked the breath out of me. I stumbled back and looked up, the apology ready on my lips. "I'm so sorry."

I met Alessio's unimpressed expression.

My heart beat out of my chest. I stood frozen, secretly anticipating what his next sentence would be. Would he yell? If I told him right now, in this crowded hallway, that I might be pregnant with his child, what would he do?

Instead, Alessio took a step aside and kept walking. He ignored me. He did not say a single word. He just moved past me like I was a ghost.

"Damn, he's so fine and rude all at once," Ruby muttered, admiring him. She looked back one more time over her shoulder.

I pulled her arm. All I wanted was for this night to end as soon as possible and it already started as bad as it could after I walked into Alessio, the exact person I had been trying to avoid. Normally I would not even see him at the club, but of course, out of all the times I could have crossed paths with him, it had to be tonight.

As always the club was filled with people who were just here to have fun to businessmen looking for amusement. Usually, I went into the VIP section because those businessmen had the most money, but today I was not feeling it and mingled with the normal guests.

Truthfully, dancing and letting go of myself for money was not the worst job. The only downside was the prejudice. I hated the condescending looks I received whenever people asked me what I did for a living. They never expected my answer. A shy, quiet girl stripping at a club to earn rent money did not fit their worldview.

I stopped dancing for a second. The flashing strobes blinded me, but I blocked off every bit of music and light. Only one thought went through my mind as I looked down at my stomach.

I was obviously pregnant. There was no denying it anymore.

Yet here I was, being irresponsible. Dancing half-naked in a club was the last thing I should have been doing in this condition. But no one else was paying my bills. I desperately needed the cash. How could someone like me get pregnant? Why did I even have a one-night stand with him? I was unequipped to raise a child.

"You look like shit and have been doing so for a few months now."

I jumped, startled by the gruff voice. Vinnie stood right beside me. The guy followed me everywhere to collect my tips and keep the customers in line. Vinnie was an overall nice guy, but he was extremely bold. He was never afraid to speak the truth.

"Go home and rest, or see a doctor," he demanded bluntly.

Leaving earlier would probably work to both of our advantages. It meant Vinnie would also be finished for the night and could take a break.

I looked at the big clock on the wall above the bar. It was already past midnight. I nodded my head at Vinnie. It was enough for today. I had probably reached my target tip goal anyway.

I patted Vinnie on his shoulder and thanked him. I quickly made my way through the crowd toward the dressing room, keeping my head down in the hopes of not being seen by anyone else. I just wanted to grab my street clothes, slip out the back exit, and bury myself under my blankets.

I grabbed my duffel bag, bypassed the main hallway, and headed straight for the rear alley exit.

"Cricket, leaving already?"

I heard the voice yell and stopped in my tracks. I closed my eyes, cursing my terrible luck. By the cheerful tone, I knew exactly who it was. The other two Marchese brothers did not sound like that. It was Nico.

I stood rooted to the spot. I had two options. The first option was to run into the dressing room, lock the door, and ignore my boss. The second option was to turn around and face him in this miserable state. The first option was out of the question. Considering the money I needed to survive, avoiding my boss was the last thing on my list.

I awkwardly turned around to face him. "H-hey."

Nico's eyes got wide for a second. He pushed off the wall, closed the distance between us, and held his bare hand against my forehead to check my temperature. I flinched but let him do it.

"Cricket... you look like several shits combined and mixed up together," he commented.

Nico always had an interesting way with words. His vocabulary was either way too under-advanced or far too advanced for my tired brain to process. Instead of arguing, I frowned, waiting for his usual explanation that always followed his insults.

"You look funny, get some sleep," he translated.

I failed to hide the saddened expression on my face. My lower lip trembled. I wrapped my arms tighter around my stomach. The back hallway was drafty, and my thin club clothes did nothing to block the chill. My body shook visibly. Nico gave me a deep, pitiful look as he scanned my shivering frame.

Then, he looked past my shoulder.

"Sio, come and take a look at this. If you're taking over dad one day, you'll have to treat your employees better!" Nico yelled loudly at the person behind me.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart stopped dead.

I stood there in utter disbelief. If I had known that trying to sneak out early would put me directly in the path of the exact man I tried to avoid for the second time today, I would have dropped the money and just not come to work at all. Panic flooded my veins as I realized Alessio Marchese was standing right behind me.