“Umm, yeah. I can. I just have to run those few errands, and I wanted to organize my stuff at home quickly too.”
He studies me with a cocky look on his face. “You want to organize the suitcases you’ve been living out of for weeks all of a sudden?”
I cross my arms across my chest. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Okay.” He chuckles, folding his bulging arms across his pecs, and I’m so happy that he slept in a shirt. “I’ll be here.”
My chest aches. “I won’t be gone too long.”
He adjusts his knee before looking up at me through his lashes. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I smile at him, fighting back a playful giggle. I walk toward the door, anxiety starting to flood my system with each step as reality creeps back into my body.
Three minutes has never felt so long in my entire life. Maybe the only comparison is when I was in the hospital waiting room thenight of Jensen and Carly’s accident, waiting to hear if they were okay. I spent decades in that chair and centuries pacing in the hallway.
Time is such a fickle thing. It passes the same, but can feel so differently at varying moments in one’s life. This being one of them.
The alarm sounds on my phone, and I shut it off immediately, my nerves eating me alive. The only sensation in my body is anxiety.
I don’t know what I’m going to do if I flip that test over and it says that I’m pregnant.
How am I going to deal with Cole? I know he’s going to try to take control of the situation, which is the last thing I’d want. What if I just stay here, staring at the back of the white-and-pink test without ever flipping it over?
I exhale audibly, knowing that I have to face this head-on. Slowly lifting my hand, I grab the test, close my eyes, and turn it over.
I can do this. Whatever the outcome, I can handle it.
Three … two … one.
My eyes open, and in the blink of an eye, the course of my entire life changes as I read the wordpregnanton the tiny display screen.
Somehow, I knew all along that this would be the result and this was just a formality for confirmation. But knowing it factually is another depth of realization entirely.
I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant.
The words turn over and over in my mind, sounding so right yet so wrong at the same time. If only it could have happened from a no-name one-night stand and not with someone who I know will make this process a living hell.
Do I have to tell him? Would he fight me to find out the truth? Yes, probably.
But first, I need to be sure that this isn’t a faulty test. Grabbing the other four tests I peed on, I flip them over, each one revealing the same answer.
I guess that settles that.
Stepping backward on the tiles, I lean back against the open door of my bathroom, feeling the world shift around me, standing in a new place that I’ve never lived before … as a soon-to-be mom.
I rest my hand on my stomach as tears well in my eyes. I’m so conflicted because on one hand, I’ve always dreamed of being a mom, and on the other, I’m saddened by the weight of this new responsibility and the challenges it will bring.
Is that normal to feel an ounce of grief for the life I’m leaving behind, for the version that existed before today?
It’smynormal at least. But I’m still excited for the new path quickly approaching. It’s just still very fresh and new.
A tear hits my cheek … wait, not a tear, a drop of water.
What the heck?
I stare up at the ceiling. My body runs cold. “What the hell?”
The ceiling is … drooping, water staining and saturating nearly the whole thing. How in thehellhave I not looked up and noticed that?!
