AN; A huge thank you to my beta – thanks for helping and encouraging when necessary!
7 WEEKS
ELENA
Elena groaned as the morning sickness got the best of her. She stumbled into the bathroom, her body shivering with cold sweat and nausea. She barely made it to the toilet before falling to her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach. The stench and burning sensation of orange juice caused her throat to feel sore and swollen at the same time. She cursed herself for not sticking with tea and roasted toast. Orange juice and bacon had seemed like such a nice craving until she'd finished the last bite. Yikes. Never again.
She wanted to curse herself for the stupidity that had controlled her during the party at the beach. Numerous shots of alcohol had resulted in her first hangover and a one night stand — her first and only one night stand. Ever. The casual hookup wasn't for her. Things had been slightly awkward and weird. Truthfully, she didn't even remember much of what had happened during the sexual encounter.
A couple of former classmates had dragged her to a party at the beach — hosted by Stefan Salvatore and his notorious, rich, and savage buddies and she'd had to admit that she'd been intrigued at the time. It had been so different from what she was used to. She had a couple of casual friends but no BFFs. So she'd convinced herself to enjoy life for a night and party alongside her former classmates. She'd been drinking, dancing, flirting, and having actual fun – for a while.
The beach house had been so luxurious and Stefan had seemed quite genuine as he'd pursued her, however, it had obviously been an act in order to get into her pants. Well – if her morning sickness wasn't proof enough – he'd definitely succeeded.
She'd been on her back for approximately five minutes. He'd finished before she'd had the chance to actually enjoy it and then, he'd fallen asleep. On top of her. Almost squeezing her into the mattress.
A part of her felt ashamed of the fact that she didn't remember much of it — another part of her was grateful beyond belief. It wouldn't be much of a happy memory. She'd been so drunk and unfocused at the time. It was embarrassing to even think about it. She'd made bad choices and she was currently paying for one of them.
Four weeks had passed since the brief encounter and she'd been pacing back and forth in her small bedroom one morning, afraid of as much as glancing towards the test.
Her mother had been equally nervous as she'd entered the room with a supportive nod on her face as they'd counted the minutes together. Mother and daughter had shed tears of fear, regret, worry, and somewhat a little happiness as they'd stared down at the test together.
Elena had laughed for a second before hysteria had found her and she'd started bawling her eyes out. Her mother had had to grab her by the shoulders, explaining to her that they would take care of it. She'd let her daughter know that she had options.
However, when the test showed two blue lines, Elena had already decided what she wanted to do. She'd known that an abortion would help her in more than one way – as it was probably considered the easy way out – but then what? Could she ever live with the regret if she– no.
A baby at eighteen wasn't exactly something she'd call optimal but at the same time – she wouldn't be the first teen to have a baby at that age.
She was aware of her options and an abortion wasn't one of them – neither was adoption. She had made her choice – she would keep the baby. It was the right choice for her – that was all that really mattered – at least that's what she told herself on her bad and doubtful days.
She flushed the toilet and leaned back against the cold tiles, briefly resting her head in her hands before pulling her brown hair into a high ponytail.
Her current hormone fluctuation felt like PMS. Although, PMS was putting it much too mildly. Ha! It was more like PMS delivered from Satan himself. She wasn't exactly miserable due to the situation but still, she did feel rather uncertain of her own strength regarding it all. The situation had brought her into new territory and she was both scared and nervous beyond belief. A baby. It was so huge and still so very unimaginable.
Thankfully, her mother had reminded her yesterday – with a stern look on her face – that she would have almost nine months to adjust to the pregnancy. That reassurance had calmed her down a bit. She felt drained, bloated, and crankier than usual.
According to the OB she'd visited with her mother the other day, the embryo was the size of a blueberry. It was normal for her to experience some cramping and fatigue. She'd been told to rest and relax, but she couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom coming her way.
Needles to say, Stefan hadn't taken the news well. He'd freaked out to say the least. He'd called her a gold digger and other things she didn't even want to repeat in her own head. No shit, she'd thought. He'd been a jackass. She'd hoped that Stefan would stay out of it. She'd texted him that she wanted nothing to do with him, he didn't have to get involved. She didn't want his money. But, then again, his name was Stefan Salvatore and his father practically owned half of the city. He'd texted her back, twice, since he found out. The first text asking if she was serious, the second one, simply informing her that someone would stop by her house and solve the problem for her. She didn't know him all that well and couldn't determine if Stefan would actually send someone to do his dirty work. He wouldn't, would he? She had no idea.
She'd also felt rather hurt at the fact that he'd referred to the little berry inside her as a problem needing to be solved. How could he be so indifferent to what they had managed to create during their brief, somewhat drunken and slightly chaotic encounter? How could he just simply turn away from something that he'd been a part of creating? It was unfathomable for her, but, she was no longer hurt by his insensitive words – she was mad.
DAMON
Damon knocked on the front door of what most people would probably call a typical suburban house. He knew from the file Rose had handed him, that the Gilberts weren't rich.
They had a white picket fence, a porch that seemed slightly rotten and a yard full of scrap metal and some furniture standing by the garage. Well, fuck. Yikes. The Addams' house did exist. He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous thought and sighed before knocking once again.
He typed away on his phone, pondering whether or not to go to New York over the weekend. Man, he needed a break from all the shit going on. He could only hope the girl would make it easy for him.
His job at the Gilbert's was supposed to be simple – offer the girl enough money to go through with the abortion, give her some extra cash to play around with in order to keep her mouth shut. Or, she could potentially go with option number two and ruin his life for the upcoming next year and a half. To say he was scared shitless was an understatement. Easy. What could possibly go wrong?
"Hello."
Damon looked up from his phone and had to blink a couple of times before meeting the brown eyes staring back at him. He felt his heart constrict in his chest. Damon had to admit that he was a bit taken aback as he eyed her from head to toe. He was shocked to say the least but being followed by the paparazzi since the tender age of three – he knew how to hide his emotions from unwelcome glances.
His brother had described Elena as an ugly duckling – just a random girl with unbeautiful proportions. At that exact moment, Damon realized three things. One, Stefan sucked at describing people. Two, not even the picture his father's private detective had managed to find looked similar to the person in front of him. Sure, she was rather everyday looking, dressed in skinny dark jeans and a sweater. Three, she wasn't a girl, not really. No. Young woman sounded a lot more correct and appropriate considering the situation. The female stared back at him with mature eyes. She seemed older than eighteen.
He wasn't exactly looking forward to what was to come but he shrugged and tried to focus at the task at hand. It had to be done.
"Can I help you?" she offered and stroked a hand across her face.
"Are you Elena Gilbert?"
"Yes." she nodded, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow and rather suspicious look. "Who's asking?"
"I'm Damon Salvatore. I'm here on the behalf of my brother, Stefan."
"What about him?" she managed to ask without stammering.
"Let's just say that we have a lot to discuss." Damon concluded with a superior look plastered on his face. "The little berry you're carrying is causing a lot of trouble. My family is offering to fix the problem for you. So, there's basically two options for you to choose from. You can have an abortion and a shitload of money or you can move in with me and play house for a year and a half. My family is constantly in the spotlight so think of it as a charade where we're a couple in love, engaged and ready to have a baby. We might as well go through the arrangement straight away unless you're opting for an abortion."
She stared at him, seemingly taken aback and dumbfounded. She blinked at him. Damon wasn't completely sure but he could've sworn she paled in front of his eyes as she started wavering.
"You're looking rather pale. Are you okay?"
"I can't–"
Damon caught her in his arms before she hit the ground. She simply slumped against him and he scooped her up in his arms and carried her – bridal style – over the threshold, kicking the front door shut behind him. Easy, yeah right.
He made his way through the kitchen and placed her on the sofa in a small yet cozy living room, wondering whether or not he should've been easier on her. Poor gal, she'd seemed older earlier but as he slowly and with interest eyed her – he could tell she was still a teen.
And, for a second or two, he actually felt sorry for her. Meeting his brother and ending up in Stefan's bed had changed her entire future – did she even realize what she was getting herself into? She was young, innocent and she had practically her whole life ahead of her.
So, no, he couldn't understand the beauty in having a baby. Sure, he realized that babies were a blessing – not everyone got the chance or opportunity to have one, but, seriously? She was eighteen and she'd obviously decided to end her life and ruin her future with motherhood. Yeah, no, he couldn't wrap his mind around it.
However, the contract was perfect – created with such ease and diminished with slightly delicate instructions and rules that she would have to follow if – if – she agreed to the terms and decided to have an abortion. His family was offering her a lot of money. She would be a total lunatic not to accept the first offer.
On the other hand, he'd seen the emotion in her eyes the second he'd mentioned Stefan's name – the young woman would never go through with an abortion. The refusal had been written all over her face so Damon would have to recollect his thoughts and get his shit together. He was far from elated about what it would actually mean for him if she picked the second option – except from a serious lack of sex and naked women in his bed. Shit!
Damon pulled a hand across his face. They would have to be seen in public together so that the tabloids could snap pictures of Giuseppe Salvatore's oldest son and his new girlfriend. They would have to act all lovingly among people, she would have to move in with him and– fuck!
It was all PR and Damon knew the importance of the image his family would be sending to the public. The press and the sloppy tabloids would have a field day. Elena would become a public person – followed and closely scrutinized by everyone – whether she liked it or not.
He shook his head and glanced down at her. "I sure hope you're up for it, darling. It's gonna be one hell of a ride."
A female shriek coming from behind him had Damon turning to face a brunette that was an old looking version of Elena, who he assumed was her mother. He tried to remember what her first name that had been scribbled down by the private detective his father had hired, but no, he couldn't remember it.
"Who are you, and what are you doing with my daughter? Get away from her."
He quickly raised both his hands in a surrendering gesture. The woman reached for a spatula from the kitchen counter and walked towards him as he got to his feet. He had no idea what damage she thought she'd be able to do with a plastic spatula, but, he kind of had to admit that she looked pissed and ready to defend her offspring from him if necessary. He could only hope that the woman knew about her daughter's condition so that he didn't drop a freaking huge bomb on her. He could only take so much as one fainting woman at a time.
"Mrs. Gilbert, calm down. My name's Damon. She fainted and I carried her inside. I'm here to talk about your daughter's pregnancy."
"How–how would you– How would you know about her pregnancy?"
"She spent a night with my brother. Stefan Salvatore, does it ring a bell?"
"Oh. Oh, dear. I didn't– I recognize you." She blushed crimson and lowered the spatula and stepped into the living room. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to threaten you. I'm usually very calm and collected. I just, I saw you and my daughter splayed out on the sofa and I just– I'm sorry. I do recognize you from some of the tabloids. Your family's well known in town. Once again, I'm sorry for my behavior."
"It's alright. I'm the one who should apologize. I might've been a little harsh on your daughter."
"What happened?"
He watched the woman as she made her way over to Elena. She stroked a hand across her daughter's cheek and he cleared his throat, forcing her to turn towards him once again. They had a lot to discuss and the sooner the better. Maybe the mom could give him the answers Elena hadn't been able to, before she'd fainted.
"Look, we have a situation that needs to be solved. My brother and your daughter–" He didn't really know where to draw the line, so he paused for a second, carefully choosing his words. "They shared a night together and we both know that it ended up in your daughter being pregnant – which obviously must've shocked all of you as much as it shocked my family."
"Well, yes. It's not what you wish to hear from your eighteen year old but I'll try to see the positive in it, the best I can. She doesn't need the kind of negativity your family's presence brings her. Apperntly, your brother doesn't intend to be a part of the child's life. So leave her alone. She's surrounded by family and she doesn't need any financial help. Elena would never ask for anything, nor would she spread it to the press, if that's what you're worried about. She's smarter than that."
Damon nodded and tried to collect a part of his brain that he seemed to have lost among the words Mrs. Gilbert just uttered. The woman was persistent and it was easy to see where the young girl had gotten a part of her attitude from. he hadn't seen much of it before she'd slumped against him but, it had been there nonetheless. Mother and daughter had fierce spirits – no doubt about that.
"I understand that this isn't optimal but my family tend to do things a little differently from others. My brother is not ready to father a child and the best thing would be to take care of the problem as quick as possible."
"My daughter have already made up her mind, so if you're here to bribe her – you're sadly mistaken – she's not having an abortion and she's not taking any money from you or your family. In fact, she doesn't even want your brother to be involved – which I consider both smart and stupid by my daughter at the same time, but, she's stubborn and like I said, she's made up her mind. You can take your money, Mr. Salvatore. I'm sure you can find your way out by yourself."
Damon sighed and clenched his jaw. He wasn't surprised by her words and the obvious loathing she raidiated towards him as he eyed her. However, he wasn't used to so much resistance. His father had urged him to use his charm but it wouldn't do him any good at this point. He would surely come across as an even bigger ass and that wasn't good for his case.
"Mrs. Gilbert, I'm not here to force your daughter to do anything she doesn't want to do. I'm a defense attorney and I know that I have no rights to tell her what to do, I can only speak my mind and hope that you listen and take parts of it into consideration. And, nor am I here to bribe her into anything she's not comfortable with. I'm, truth be told, simply here to offer her the choice to choose from the two options I'm supposed to present. The rest is – quite frankly – up to her."
"What kind of options are we talking about?"
"How much time do you have?"
"Young man, I'm a mother. When it comes to my children – I've got all the time in the world."
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Love, Quinn
