Own Me (Savage Bosses)

14. Ayana

CHAPTER 14

Ayana

I storm into my office, seething with anger and frustration. Sterling, my demanding boss, has once again pushed me to my limit. I can’t believe how I allow this man to get under my skin like this. A man who treats me like this – who treats me like I’m an expendable pawn in his little power game.

I try to be the best at my job, always striving for perfection, but I need more than that for him. His ego is so inflated that he can’t see beyond his egotistical reflection in the mirror. I’m tired of being belittled and undermined just because I don’t fit into his narrow vision of success.

Today was the last straw. He publicly humiliated me during the staff meeting, dismissing my ideas as insignificant. The way he looks down at me with disdain makes my blood boil. I can’t take it anymore.

I sit down at my desk and log on to the company computer. I’ve always been careful not to use it for anything personal, but I don’t care today. I need an outlet for my frustration, a way to release all the pent-up emotions. I once again find solace in the anonymity of the online forums.

I start typing furiously, venting to my online friends BBW69 and TestyTesty . They’re the only ones who I see are already online. I’m so glad I found others who understand what I’m going through. As I type, my words pour out like a torrential rainstorm, each keystroke a release of the anger and hurt I’ve been holding in for so long.

BlacqQueen333: I can’t believe how arrogant and heartless he is; I type, my fingers flying over the keyboard. “No matter how hard I try, he never appreciates my efforts. It’s like he enjoys making me suffer. Why did I have to fall for someone so cruel?”

BBW69 responds almost immediately, offering words of support and understanding. “Girl, I feel you. Some people are just toxic and don’t deserve our loyalty or devotion. You deserve a boss who appreciates and cherishes you for who you are.”

TestyTesty says, “Yeah, don’t let him destroy your self-esteem. You are so much more than what he sees in you. Remember that.”

Their words give me a momentary respite from the rage inside me. It’s comforting to know that some people care about me, even if they are strangers on the internet. But the pain lingers, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m stuck in this toxic cycle.

As I continue typing, I start to feel a sense of relief. It’s as if each word typed is a step towards reclaiming my power and breaking free from chain manipulation. For a brief moment, I imagine life without him, without the constant pressure to please him at all costs.

But just as I’m about to find some semblance of peace, I hear a knock on my office door. My heart races as I quickly minimize the chat window and try to compose myself. “Come in,” I say, my voice trembling with anxiety.

To my horror, it’s Sterling, standing there with that infuriating smirk on his face.

“Ayana, I need those reports on my desk by the end of the day,” he says dismissively, not even acknowledging the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes.

“Of course, sir,” I reply, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me.

He lingers momentarily as if he senses something is off, but then he turns and leaves without another word. I let out a shaky breath, realizing I almost let my guard down in front of him. I can’t afford to show weakness; he would only use it against me.

As I stare at the blinking cursor on my computer screen, I can’t help but wonder how much longer I can endure this torment. But there’s a fire burning inside me now, a determination to break free from his control and reclaim my control.

I pull back up the screen and continue to vent.

BBW69 : writes, “You’re not alone. My boss is just as awful. It’s like they thrive on making our lives miserable. But we must remember our worth and not let them define us.”

TestyTesty : adds, “I feel you both. My boss is constantly undermining me too, and it’s so frustrating. But we’re strong and capable and will find a way to rise above all this negativity.”

Reading their words, I feel a sense of camaraderie and strength. These strangers, who have never met me in person, understand me better than anyone in my real life ever could. We form a bond through shared pain and frustration, and it’s oddly empowering.

A spark of determination ignites inside me. Maybe, just maybe, I can turn this online support group into something more – a force for change that challenges the status quo and empowers people like us to take back control of our lives.

But for now, I have to focus on the present. Sterling’s demand for the reports still lingers, and I can’t afford to mess up. I take a deep breath, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall and start working on the reports.

I pour all my frustration and anger into my work with every keystroke. This is my chance to prove to Sterling that his treatment of me won’t break me. I may not have the power to change him, but I can damn well show him that I won’t be defeated.

As the day goes on, I find myself switching between my work tasks and the online forum, where BBW69 and TestyTesty continue to offer their support and encouragement. It’s a strange balancing act, but it keeps me going, knowing that I have this virtual sanctuary to turn to when the weight of the world becomes too much.

By the end of the day, I’ve finished the reports and sent them off to Sterling’s desk. Part of me hopes that he’ll recognize my effort, but I know better than to expect praise from him.

Another day the same old shit, I think to myself as I look at the computer screen as I pack my things to leave the office. The chat window is still open, filled with messages from my online friends. I smile, feeling a glimmer of hope that I can vent to my heart’s content.

W hen I arrive home, I’m still livid that Sterling forces me to work even longer hours, even though Lux gets to leave by 5p.m. every day. I don’t even know why he hired her if I’m just going to work late most days. Today, I walked in on him so close to Lux on his office couch that they might as well have been kissing.

The only plus side is that I have endless material for BBD. It is almost like he’s trying to make my material as asshole certified as possible. After work, I log in to comment on how fed up I am with Mister Bossy Pants’ antics. I sit on my couch with my tilapia and rice on the dinner tray next to me. But then, I catch a whiff of the fish. The aroma nauseates me enough to send me running to the toilet, to throw up. As I’m cleaning up, an awful idea hits me like the vomit just hit the water.

A thought dawns on me, and my mouth gapes open. I haven’t had a period in months, which isn’t a surprise since I’ve had irregular periods since my menstrual cycle started at thirteen. But what worries me is my upset stomach and the recent throwing up all the time. A scary thought enters my mind and I grab my jacket and purse and head to the nearest Pharmacy.

I step into the pharmacy, my heart pounding as I navigate the aisles filled with products promising various solutions. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a sterile glow on the shelves, and I feel a knot tightening in my stomach. Trying to maintain composure, I gather a handful of pregnancy tests and head to the cashier.

As I approach the counter, I can’t help but feel a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The cashier scans each item with practiced efficiency, and I force a small smile, my hands trembling as I fumble for my wallet. The transaction feels like an eternity, and I grab the discreet bag, heading home with a growing sense of unease.

Back in the privacy of my bathroom, the stark white walls seem to close in on me as I unwrap the pregnancy tests.

Thank God I have to pee. The test takes seconds, but the results won’t show for a whole minute. I hold my breath, watching the display window as I count down from sixty. I lose count as I think about the fact that the last person I had sex with was Sterling. He didn’t wear a condom, I remember. Even if he came outside me, there’s still a chance that— the double pink lines may appear, and I let out a slow breath.

I follow the instructions meticulously, the seconds ticking away like a slow drumbeat. The quiet of the room is shattered by the loud pounding of my heart, drowning out everything else.

As the results begin to materialize, I find myself holding my breath. The first test shows a faint line, and my mind races to comprehend the implications. I take another, and the second test confirms the result. Mixed emotions surge within me like a tempest, tearing through the fragile walls I’ve built around my feelings.

I sit on the edge of the bathtub, my hands trembling as I clench the pregnancy tests. A rush of conflicting emotions floods my senses — fear, disbelief, excitement, and uncertainty collide in a tumultuous symphony. Tears escape my eyes, tracing silent paths down my cheeks.

The weight of the situation settles over me, and I can’t escape the reality of what the tests suggest. The room feels suffocating, and I gasp for air, trying to reconcile my swirling emotions. My mind races through countless scenarios, each a labyrinth of potential futures.

Tears blur my vision as I stare at the positive results, grappling with the overwhelming realization that life is about to change. Questions and doubts multiply like wildfire, consuming the once-familiar landscape of my thoughts. I feel a mix of joy and sorrow, happiness and fear, like a storm raging within me.

The future unfolds before me, uncertain and intimidating. I trace my fingers over the faint lines on the tests, a tangible representation of the profound shift in my life. The weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders, and I can’t escape the profound impact this revelation will have on everything I’ve known.

During my emotional storm, a glimmer of hope emerges. Despite the fear and uncertainty, a tiny excitement rises deep within me. Amidst the tears, I find a trace of a smile, a recognition that life’s unexpected turns may bring both challenges and joy.

I wash my hands and decide while looking at my image in the mirror. I’m going to keep this baby—our baby. I want to keep my baby no matter Sterling’s involvement with his child.

This is news I can’t hold. I have to call my friend Shayla and tell her the news. She will help me make sense of my conflicting emotions.

T he phone feels heavy in my hand as I dial Shayla’s number, each digit echoing in the quiet room. My heart races, anticipating her voice on the other end of the line. The first ring seemed to stretch forever until she finally answered. “Hello?” Her warm, familiar tone brings comfort, a lifeline amid my turbulent thoughts.

“Shayla, it’s Ayana,” I manage to say, my voice betraying the mix of emotions threatening to spill over. There’s a pause on the other end and a concerned edge seeps into her response. "Ayana, what's wrong? You sound upset.”

The dam bursts, and I can no longer contain the torrent of emotions. “I... I took a pregnancy test, Shayla. And it’s positive.” The weight of the words hangs in the air, and I can almost hear Shayla’s sharp intake of breath on the other side.

“Oh, Ayana,” she murmurs, her voice gentle yet filled with understanding. “Take a deep breath. We’ll figure this out together.” There’s a warmth in her words, a reassurance that momentarily eases the storm inside me.

Shayla wastes no time. “I’m coming over, okay? Just stay put.” I nod, forgetting for a moment that she can’t see me. The connection ends, and I’m left with anticipation and apprehension. Moments later, the doorbell rings, and I welcome the familiarity of Shayla’s presence.

She enters with a comforting smile, her eyes reflecting a genuine concern that instantly puts me at ease. Shayla wraps me in a tight hug, the kind only true friends can provide. “I’m here for you, Ayana. Whatever you need, I’ve got your back.”

We settle in the living room, and I recount the whirlwind of emotions that led me to this moment. Shayla listens attentively, offering a supportive presence that feels like a lifeline in the storm. She takes my hand, a silent gesture of solidarity that speaks louder than words.

After absorbing the news, Shayla looks at me with empathy and determination. “Ayana, this is a lot to process, but you don’t have to face it alone. We’ll navigate this journey together.” Her words hang in the air, a comforting promise that sparks a glimmer of hope within me.

As we discuss the implications and uncertainties, Shayla suggests, “Have you considered talking to Sterling? It’s his child, too, and maybe you two can work together for the baby’s sake.” The idea lingers in the room, and I contemplate the complexities of involving him in this unexpected chapter of our lives.

The thought of sharing this news with Sterling sends shivers down my spine. Shayla senses my hesitation and reassures me, “I know it’s scary, Ayana, but sometimes facing the unknown is the only way to find a resolution. You’re not alone in this, and Sterling deserves to know.”

Her words strike a chord, and I realize the gravity of the decision ahead. As Shayla continues to offer support and guidance, I find a newfound strength within me. Together, we navigate the emotional landscape, acknowledging the challenges and opportunities ahead.

Will I gather my courage and share the news with Sterling? Even if it’s unfair, now isn’t the right time to talk to him about my pregnancy. In my heart, I think he deserves to know, but in my head, it’s an entirely different story.

I take a deep breath, phone in hand, and dial my OBGYN’s office. The receptionist’s voice is calm and efficient, and I schedule an appointment for the next day at my lunch hour, the anticipation of confirmation tightening my stomach. The click of the phone as I end the call with the gynecologist’s office echoes in my ears. The appointment is set – a step closer to confirming what the pregnancy tests already hinted at. Nervous anticipation courses through me as I prepare for this pivotal visit.

The minutes crawl by until the day arrives, and I find myself seated in the sterile waiting room, the air heavy with the scent of disinfectant. The doctor’s office door opens, and my name is called by a nurse who greets me with a warm smile. I take a seat on the examination table, my nerves dancing beneath my skin as I await confirmation of what the pregnancy tests have already suggested.

The nurse steps aside as Dr. Reynolds enters the room and reviews my medical history and asks about any symptoms or concerns I might have. The atmosphere is clinical yet compassionate, and I appreciate her ability to balance the medical aspect with the emotional nuances of the situation. She explains the various stages of pregnancy and the importance of prenatal care, emphasizing the need for a healthy lifestyle.

As she conducts the physical examination, Dr. Reynolds maintains a reassuring dialogue, offering medical insights and emotional support. The moment arrived when she confirmed the pregnancy, and a mix of emotions washed over me. The reality of the situation sinks in, and Dr. Reynolds guides me through the following steps, outlining a preliminary plan for prenatal care and necessary tests.

Her advice is practical and caring, focusing on the well-being of both me and the developing baby. The doctor stresses the importance of a balanced diet, regular exercise, and adequate rest. Dr. Reynolds patiently answers my questions, dispelling uncertainties and guiding the journey.

Dr. Reynolds offers guidance on prenatal care, emphasizing the importance of a healthy lifestyle. She discusses potential challenges and reassures me that the medical team will be with me every step of the way. As she imparts advice on nutrition, exercise, and regular check-ups, I absorb the information, realizing the profound responsibility of impending motherhood.

As the doctor outlines the following steps, her encouraging words echo in my mind. “Ayana, take care of yourself. This is a journey, and we’re here to support you. Feel free to reach out with any questions or concerns.”

Back in the waiting room, a sense of realization settles over me. The path ahead is daunting and beautiful, filled with unknowns yet brimming with potential. With a newfound resolve, I leave the office armed with knowledge, support, and purpose.

Later, back at work I sit behind my desk and place my hand on my stomach, my flat belly betraying the secret within. I whisper loving words to the tiny life growing inside me, a promise of unwavering love and devotion. Despite the absence of visible changes, the connection is palpable, I will love this baby beyond my dying breath.