Five+ months later

Xiomara stepped down from the ferry that had carried her from Sint Maarten to Anguilla. The motion of the boat had caused her stomach to lurch with unease, and right now, she felt like she needed to vomit.

The baby kicked, adding to the queasy feeling, and her hand automatically flew to her belly as she whispered sweet nothings to the little one and asked him to settle down.

The baby was a boy according to the midwife and her readings on the ultrasound machine. Three weeks ago, Xiomara had her first antenatal appointment, and everything seemed to be going well with the baby. What a relief. She'd been reading up on stuff on the internet. Worse thing to do. Like ever. Now her paranoia was out of bounds. Spina bifida, cleft lips and palates ... down syndrome ... cystic fibrosis - you name it, she'd read about it.

Being pregnant was a scary thing. Especially when the dad was out of the picture. And a stranger at that. She had never felt so alone in her entire life, even though she was now eating and breathing for two.

Stepping up to the window at immigration, she handed her passport to the officer, who in turn glanced at the identification book and then back at her before waving her through. Willem had told her that a car would be waiting for her, so she skipped the taxi stands altogether and found a bench to sit on. Her feet desperately needed the break. She secured her suitcase next to her and waited.

It turned out that wearing killer, red, high heeled pumps to travel hadn't been her smartest idea yet. But she wasn't about to let Beyoncé down. Her cut-off tee and shorts demanded nothing less.

Just as she sat down, the bathroom called her name, her bladder threatening to implode on itself. This constantly needing to pee thing was the most annoying thing she'd had to deal with so far with her pregnancy. Morning sickness had been minimal. Whew.

It wasn't long before a fancy looking Range Rover stopped right in front of where she sat, the sun now creeping over her bare shoulder. One look through the windshield and her heart flipped around in her chest, only to drop down like an elevator without any brakes a heartbeat later. She would recognize Omar's low cut, round head from anywhere. His break-wall expression was also a dead giveaway. The man had a way of looking like The Rock when he's cooking something and was about to bodyslam the living lights out of a bitch ass punk.

For a moment she sat frozen, her fingers squeezing the life out of the suitcase's handle. She hadn't seen him in months. After the embarrassing debacle in Willem's kitchen, he had made himself scarce. She found it amusing how easy it was for some men to walk away - and never look back.

Shit hurt, but she had gotten used to men coming in and out of her mom's life - so why would it be any different for her?

Although she had asked Omar to leave, a small part of her - the part that stayed up nights imagining what their baby would look like, and what life with him might be like - wished he hadn't listened to her.

Every morning when she woke up and the reality of being a single mom hit her like a punch in the gut, she told herself that the odds were stacked against her and that she was much better off with the dad being out of the picture now than three years down the road. At least now, she knew what the future held for her and she could plan accordingly.

Conniving gold digger. That's what he'd called her ... after he had sought her out, and not the other way around. None of it made any sense to her. Maybe it was the hormones, but one moment she wanted him to be a part of the baby's life, and the next, just the thought of him saying those hurtful words to her was enough to give her a stroke.

And how in the world did she tell a man who had trust issues when it came to money and women that she was pregnant by him after he'd put it on her only once. Simple. She didn't tell him. No matter how much her mother pressured her to.

The window on the passenger side of the Rover rolled down. "Are you getting in or not?"

There goes. He hadn't changed one bit. His voice was still as deep and rich as she remembered. The low tone sent unwanted vibrations rolling under her skin and made her heart feel full. As if the baby could sense Omar, he shifted, a leg or an arm pushing against her barely there stomach. It was a weird sensation to have something so alive moving inside of her.

It was even weirder to know that the baby was part her and part the man she despised like no other.

"I'll find another way to get there," she said. And then she lifted her nose in defiance as she gave him the side eye.

"Stop the games and get in the car. We don't have all day. Willem will be here in just a few hours." Those brown eyes narrowed at her, thick eyebrows slashing, backing up the command in his voice.

"And I said, I'll find my way there."

"Suit yourself then." Omar pressed on the gas and drove off.

The thought of having to spend money on a taxi was enough to make her sweat. She had started saving for when the baby came, but life kept getting in the way. Although Esmeralda was feeling better and better each day, the new, more expensive antibiotics starting to show some promise, there was always something else that needed to be adjusted.  Last week, she and her mom had somehow patched things together to pay the boys' school fees - after they'd received a third warning letter. And yes, she had bailed Josh out of jail. That hadn't come cheap either. The island had provided them with a free lawyer, but court fees and other administrative fees were not included.

She stood up and yelled at the moving vehicle. It came to a stop with screeching tires, about five meters away. "Will you at least help put my suitcase in the car, you boorish prick!" Other people stopped to look at her. She ignored them.

A minute later, Omar stood over her, his tall frame blocking everything in her sight but him. A slight tremor went through her. This up close, he was quite intimidating. She had forgotten how big he was. One of his arms was almost as big as her thigh. His eyes reminded her of hard steel. And his jaw was strong enough to tear a white shark in two - if he wanted to. But his mouth ... they were .... yummy?

Today he wore casual clothes, a white polo shirt with olive green shorts. It was a total three-sixty from the suit and tie look she'd seen him with so far. And she kind of liked it.

He leaned over and picked up her suitcase. "Get in the car, woman. You're really trying my patience."

Xiomara found herself seated in the passenger side of the luxurious car, the leather like heaven under her butt. The air conditioner blew cold air on her feet and it felt like she was getting an air massage by the winter gods. All she wanted to do right now was close her eyes and go to sleep.

Trying his patience? The nerves. She hoped he knew it didn't take much to set her off lately. Her anger was held in check by a rather short leash. And his attitude wasn't helping the situation. At all.

After shoving her suitcase in the trunk, Omar opened the door on the driver's side and got in, his car seat pushed back almost all the way to make space for his long legs. On his arm, a gold watch that probably cost more than her monthly salary glinted at her, throwing sparkles in her eyes.

No matter how much her mother begged her to tell him that she was pregnant, she just couldn't. What good would telling him do? He would probably reject her and her baby, without any hesitation. But her mother was right, she hadn't gotten pregnant on her own and shouldn't have to take care of the baby all by herself. Not just that, he had a right to know. And whatever he chose to do with the information, was his problem.

This is not how she'd envisioned having her first child. She had vowed not to make the same mistake her mother had. Yet here she was, twenty-one weeks pregnant, for a man she didn't know, and with little means of supporting her family and the baby when it came.

And all of this because of one afternoon of brainless, reckless behavior. She was a hypocrite for judging her sister Gianna for having unprotected sex when she had done the same thing. With a stranger, no less.

She sighed.

Omar glanced at her just as he pulled out from the ferry terminal and onto the main street. "Did Filo give you a heads up on what you'll be doing? You were supposed to be here a few days ago. What happened?"

Oh yes, Filo had, and so much more. There was something about Willem having a guest over and bla bla bla. Filo had also been the one to tell Xiomara that she was pregnant. And at the time, she'd been almost three months along. Her shock at that moment was one for the books.

Filo was like, "You should stop smoking, it's not good for the baby."

Baby? What baby? Her blood had run cold as fear seized her, bringing her world to a crashing halt. Yeah, it was that bad. After Filo's confession, she'd walked around like a zombie and it had taken her three days to work up the courage to go and buy a pregnancy test in the pharmacy.

And when the test showed up positive, she'd gone to her mother crying. Literally. Who in turn had put it down to God's will, and on that same breath had recommended the root of a deadly tree to help abort the baby.

Omar tapped the dashboard to get her attention. "You need to stop the games. We're adults here. Can you at least try to be civil? I asked you a question." He glared at her after he made a right turn unto a dirt road. It was so weird how they drove on the left side of the road in Anguilla instead of the right side. But then again, they were part of the British territory, and Brits drove on the left.

Ahead of them stood a villa that could pass as a modern sister to the Tudor's mansion. Its steeply pitched roof and giant windows looked down over a green landscape that appeared almost fake. The round driveway and creeping vines were stunning. Behind the villa, the ocean in all its glory, spread out to kiss the horizon.

"Huh, what? What was the question?" She asked, as it slowly registered that Omar had spoken to her.

"Are you serious right now?"

"I'm a little distracted. Sorry."

The Rover drove through wide opened gates and came to a stop in front of a pair of wooden double doors. Omar shook his head and stepped out of the vehicle. "Man, am I glad you kicked me out of your bed. You're one callous woman."

"If I'm callous, what does that make you?" She shoved her door open with a jerk, her feet hitting the ground harder than she'd intended. Her hands immediately flew to her abdomen in a protective gesture. "You called me a conniving gold digger when you didn't even know me."

Omar walked around back and came back with her suitcase. "I called it as I saw it."

"I was kicking you out of my bed, not trying to trap you in it. I seriously think you need to get your head checked." She huffed when he left her suitcase sitting at the grille of the Rover and walked away toward the villa.

"My head is perfectly fine," he shouted. "Yours is the one in dire need of a makeover. I don't know many women who would throw themselves at their boss and his good friend, all in the same week." He threw the words over his shoulders just as the shadow of the house disappeared him from her view.

Grabbing her suitcase, she rushed after him, her pumps impeding her movement somewhat. "I didn't throw myself at you. If anything, you took advantage of me when I was in a very promiscuous position."

He dropped the car keys in a glass bowl in the giant foyer and continued strolling through the house. And then he stopped and she bumped right into him. He turned around and his dark eyes threw fire at her. "Look, there's nothing you can do to erase my first impression of you. We're strangers. Let's keep it at that."

"I ..." She opened her mouth and shut it again. "Other people's opinions of me matter."

"Why?"

"It just does."

"Good girls never have to worry about what other people think of them. Only the ones without morals and something to hide actually care." He checked his watch as if he had somewhere to be.

"Bullshit! That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

"Did you just call me stupid?" He crowded her between the wall and his body, his eyes slanting in anger.

"So now you're deaf and rude. I don't have time for this. I need to pee. Where's my bedroom?" She shoved him out of her way.

Omar took her by the arm. "We're not done talking here."

She wrenched her arm away from him. "Oh yes, we are. Stranger."

She didn't wait for a reply before she sashayed up the stairs. Halfway up, she stopped and came back down for her forgotten suitcase. This is why she couldn't tell him that she was pregnant. No way. Just two seconds after meeting him again, they were already fighting. If she had to starve to feed her baby, she would do just that. But then again, how wa starving to death going to help the child?

"Let me help you with that," Omar said when he saw her struggling to get the suitcase up the stairs.

"No, thank you. I can manage on my own."

Goodness gracious. Her future was looking bleaker and bleaker as the days went by. A brand new baby crib cost just as much as half of her salary. There's no way in the world she could support herself and the baby and keep supporting her family. Besides, the apartment they lived in was no place to raise a child.

She chose the bedroom right at the top of the stairs as her room. It had a large bathroom in it. Just perfect. Lifting the toilet lid, she dropped herself on the toilet seat as a trickle of pee had already made its way down her thigh.

Ahh. So good.

She closed her eyes just as a loud knock sounded at the door. It was Omar. "Xiomara, Francois needs you downstairs. Now."

Ugh. She was not in the right mood for this. All she needed was for everyone to back the hell up and leave her be. Was that too much to ask?

*****

Fergie - Life Goes On