Three weeks to the day after I left the cabin, Akari corners me in the kitchen.
"Have you taken the test yet?"
I'm making coffee, measuring out grounds. "No, I’ll do it today."
She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe. Her expression is the one she uses when she thinks I'm being deliberately obtuse. I’m not.
"It's been over two weeks," she says. "That's when you can test. You know that."
"I'm on contraceptives. It’s unlikely and even if I were pregnant, it’s not going to make a difference if I find out today or tomorrow. I’ll take it once I’ve had my coffee." I fit the filter to the coffee machine and turn it on. The machine immediately starts gurgling. "Why does it matter so much to you?"
Akari pushes off the doorframe and comes to stand beside me. Her voice is gentler when she speaks. "Because you told me to keep you honest, but also… you've been weird. Not bad weird, just off. And I want to rule things out."
"I haven't been weird."
"You've been eating pickles."
"I like pickles."
"Since when? You told me they were Satan's cucumbers. Direct quote."
I open my mouth to argue and then close it again. She's right. I did say that. And I did have a weird craving for pickles, straight from the jar, but that doesn’t mean I’m pregnant. It just means I had an unusual craving. It happens. My life has changed completely over the last few months and I’ve spent the last few weeks working round the clock on my latest story. Maybe my brain has decided it’s been enjoying new experiences.
The coffee maker finishes with a final hiss. I pour myself a mug and take a long sip, buying time.
The truth is, I've been avoiding the test because I don't want to think about the cabin at all. Every time my mind drifts in that direction, I shut it down hard. I've been taking the Severex religiously, twice a day as directed, and I think it might actually be working. The constant pull toward Carter has dulled to something more manageable. I can go full minutes now without thinking about him.
Taking a pregnancy test means thinking about him, but she’s right. I need to take it and finally draw a line under everything that’s happened.
"Fine." I set down my mug. "I'll pick one up today."
"I already got one." Akari produces a box from behind her pocket like a magician revealing a card. "Picked it up yesterday. Just in case you needed a nudge."
I stare at the box. It's pink and white and aggressively cheerful, with a smiling woman on the front who looks far too happy about peeing on a stick.
"Go on." She pushes the box into my hands. "Might as well get it over with." Akari's expression is worried beneath the teasing, and I know she's only pushing because she cares. That’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who fusses when she’s worried. This is exactly why she’s my best friend.
I take the box and head for the bathroom.
The instructions are simple enough. Pee on the stick, wait three minutes, check the result. One line means negative. Two lines means positive. Even I can handle that.
I do what I need to do and set the test on the edge of the sink. Then I wash my hands, dry them on the towel, and check my reflection in the mirror.
I look normal. Tired, maybe, but I've been tired for months. There's no visible evidence of anything unusual. No glow, no obvious changes. I look exactly like I did before I went to that cabin.
See?I tell myself.Nothing to worry about.
I check the time on my phone. Two minutes left.
I should probably wait in the kitchen with Akari. That's what a normal person would do. But I find myself staying, staring at the little plastic stick like it might do something interesting if I watch closely enough.
One minute.
I think about the cabin. About Carter's hands on my skin, his mouth on my neck, the tender way he held me through the worst of the heat.
Stop it.
I think about the argument instead. The casual cruelty of his words.You want to play with the big boys.The way he defended his family's smear campaign like it was just business and destroying my reputation was simply the cost of doing my job.
