Chapter 7 7. Same file

GIANNA

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I woke up even more tired and when my eyes fluttered open, I realized I was in a strange place. It looked like a hotel room, which was weird.

Did I get drugged? But the last person I was with was Bernice. She had no reason to drug me, did she?

I quickly peeked under the covers to see that my clothes were still intact. The jeans I'd been wearing were tight and my top was still on my body. It meant nobody took advantage of me, so what was I doing here?

I looked around to find my phone sitting on one of the nightstands. When I turned it on, there were various phone calls from Brandon, my mother, my friends, and my sister. However, my eyes zeroed in on the time and date. It was eight am in the morning. I blinked in surprise. I had come to the hotel around noon yesterday. I remembered falling over when I tried to walk away but how could I sleep for over twenty hours?

The first person I called was my sister. Thankfully, she wasn't busy and answered almost immediately. "Gianna!" She exclaimed. "Where the hell have you been? Everyone is worried?"

"Everyone? What do you mean?"

"Brandon was worried you weren't home so he called Mom to check if you're with her since you said you'd be visiting us. You can understand what happened after that."

"Shit." I cursed, holding my head. I had lied to Brandon that I was visiting my parents. They must be worried as fuck. What could I even tell them? I didn't know exactly what happened to me. "I was with Bernice and passed out. I don't know what happened after."

"Bernice? What the hell were you doing alone with that bitch?"

Sheila hated Bernice even more than I did. Whenever I complained to her, she hated Bernice even more. "I don't know," I confessed, but I needed to find out what happened. Why did she leave me alone in the room? Or was she around somewhere? "I'll call you back later. I need to get back home. Just tell Mom and Dad I crashed at Emily's house."

Emily was one of the only two friends I had so that was believable.

"Well, mom called Emily and she covered for you already so don't worry about that."

I loved that girl. "Then I'll call you later. I need to call someone else."

"Alright then."

After I hung up, I called Bernice next. She was the only one who could give me the answers I was looking for.

As I waited for her to answer, I sat up on the bed and starched. My muscles were weak. Was it because I was pregnant? A lot of women complained about pregnancy but I didn't know it was that bad. It was crazy.

She didn't answer the first call but when I called her again, she picked up. "Hey, Gianna." Her voice was awfully cheery. "You're finally up!"

"Finally?" I was confused. "What happened? Why am I in a hotel room?"

"You remember passing out, right? It's probably from all the stress. I just checked you into the hotel there so you can have some rest."

It sounded fishy as fuck, but then again, this was Bernice we were talking about.

"And you just left me here?" I questioned.

"I waited with you for a few hours but there was no sign of waking up. You seemed really tired and I didn't want to disturb you."

"You could have taken me home instead."

"You're currently fighting with my brother. I didn't think you'd like that."

She made a good point there but I still couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. If it wasn't already wrong, it was about to be. Emily was acting too nice and polite. It wasn't who she was.

Brandon had called me like five times. It meant he was worried. I would have preferred for her to take me home. I didn't want him to think I was hiding away or something even if he definitely deserved the silent treatment. The very least she could do was take me to the hospital, at least. What if something was wrong with me or my baby?

I sucked on my teeth, not knowing what to do. I slept for eight hours every day. I didn't do much housework. I didn't do any office work. Nothing was overworking me to cause me to sleep for more than twenty hours at a stretch. Maybe something was actually wrong and I needed to visit the hospital again.

That would have to be after I showed my face to Brandon though to let him know that I was alive and well.

"You've paid for the room, right?"

"Of course. It's the least I can do right now. I hope you had a good rest."

I didn't but I didn't let her know that. I just hung up and picked up my bag. I checked inside to make sure everything was intact. Thankfully, the brat didn't touch anything, and my test results were still folded neatly inside. I put my phone in, wore my shoes, and left the room:

I didn't even bother to tell the receptionist I was leaving. They would get the memo soon. I just went to the parking lot to get my car and started driving home.

I didn't know why my delusional ass still called Brandon's house my home. I had already made up my mind to divorce him and I kept reminding myself of that throughout the previous day. Why was I still acting like he had a right to know what was going on with me? I didn't have to go back there. I could pack my things and go back to my parent's place. Or better yet, I could rent my apartment and live by myself.

Even as I told myself all these, I still drove straight to what used to be my matrimonial home before Bailey ruined it for me. The men at the gate opened it when they saw my car and I was surprised to see that Brandon's car was still in front of the house.

He had several cars but he had a favorite and since he was outside, it meant he hadn't gone to work yet.

I parked the car, took a deep breath, and went inside the house.

As though he was waiting for me, Brandon was sitting inside the living room. He didn't acknowledge my presence when I went in but just as I was about to pass by him and go up the stairs, he extended a file to me.

The same file I had given to him yesterday before I left the house.

I eyed him warily as I took it from him and opened it to see that he had signed the divorce papers.