Juno heads out a while later to grab lunch. I could go with her, but it would be an event. Theo would have to clear it with Jensen, and I don’t feel like fending off the judgement I get for walking in with a hulking bodyguard while I’m trying to buy a bagel. So I stay in the gallery, safely tucked away like a precious piece of jewelry, and wait for Juno to return with food I don’t think I can eat.
Ten minutes later, the bell jingles over the door and I glance up as Juno walks in. She’s smiling when she slides my order onto the counter and then hands me another bag.
I frown, peering inside. There’s a pregnancy test glaring up at me.
I stare at it for a beat. “Juno.”
She shrugs. “You need to know. If you’re not pregnant, you have something gross wrong with you and that needs attention too.”
That’s a good point, but fuck, I don’t want to take this test, but I also want her to stop looking at me like I’m carrying around a secret baby when I’m not.
I rub my temple even as I huff a breath. “Will it stop this conversation?”
“Yup.” She pops the ‘P’.
“Fine.” I slide off my stool, huffing. “But you owe me a coffee tomorrow when this is negative.”
Clutching the bag like it’s contraband, I head into the bathroom. Despite insisting it’s not possible, my heart is in mythroat when I slide the lock into place. My hands shake as I unwrap the test, even though I know it’s going to be negative. It takes three attempts to read the instructions and by the time I’ve taken the test, I’m a ball of nerves.
And I don’t know why.
There’s no way I’m pregnant. Ibled.
You bled a tiny amount for a day and a half.
I thought I was lucky. That the menstruation gods smiled down at me. But maybe it was a different prayer they were answering.
I scroll my phone while I wait for the test to cook like this isn’t the biggest moment of my life. I read page after page about how my light bleeding might not have been Aunt Flo after all.
Bleeding can happen at any time in pregnancy—implantation bleeding, rough sex, spotting…
Could it have been that? Am I pregnant?
The nausea. Dizziness. Cramps.
It all adds up to one baby-shaped answer.
Fuck. I bite my lip and wait for the clock to count down.
What if it’s positive?
What if it’s not?
I’m both cold and too hot as I wait for the test to do its thing. I don’t know how to feel, don’t know what to think. Everything is jumbled and confused, like I’m standing at the edge of a crossroads.
When I finally turn the test over, my breath hitches.
The screen says clearly one word.
Pregnant.
I stare at it, as if it might disappear. It doesn’t. My lips part on a stunned gasp. I’m having a baby.
Jensen got me pregnant.
I’m going to be a mother.
I blink the tears away, my heart racing, and the nape of my neck is too warm. I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.
