How is that possible?
“Noelle, are you alright?” Abby’s voice is distant but through the numbness spreading through me, I say something I don’t even hear and end the call.
Pregnant.
There’s no way. There has to be a mistake.
I can’t be pregnant!
Bolting from the kitchen, I slam into the bathroom and start tearing through the cupboard under the sink for the old pregnancy tests buried there.
Caleb always claimed to be allergic to latex when we were together, so I relied on the pill and kept these tests as a backup.
Finding a test, I check the date and tear it open. The stick falls to the floor and I end up on my knees trying to catch it.
Over and over, that word blares in my mind.
Pregnant.
Ten minutes later, after chugging what remained of my water, I chew on my thumb while staring at the stick resting next to the sink.
The timer on my phone counts down painfully slowly, and my heart beats in time to every slow second.
This can’t be happening.
Pregnant?
There’s no way it’s Xander’s, that’s for sure. And the last person I slept with was Caleb. How long ago?
I stare at the timer until my eyes blur while trying to calculate back the last time Caleb and I were together.
Three months ago, maybe? When I got so drunk on my birthday and he made a move.
A move I accepted because I was drunk and lonely and thought he was genuinely interested.
He was just horny.
The timer on my phone beeps harshly and I wince, closing my eyes. Tears roll down my cheeks. When I open them, the truth stares me in the face.
Two pink lines.
Of course.
I’m pregnant.
My blissful Xander bubble bursts.
The air in the bathroom is biting cold and the world grows dark as I walk slowly back into the living room with the stick and my phone in hand.
This can’t happen.
I can’t be pregnant.
I sit and stare blankly at the room.
I can’t have a baby.
My life is a mess, I’m barely keeping myself together, never mind caring for something like a baby.
