I took a seat and waited. The test took a few minutes to complete, so I forced myself to try and be patient, but the suspense was overwhelming. My heart rate increased as anxiety and excitement swirled inside my chest.
After a few minutes had passed, I was beginning to wonder why Scar was taking so long. I shuffled closer to the door, which was still closed. The inside of the bathroom was silent.
“Scar?” I called. “Is everything okay?”
There was no response. I frowned.
“Hello?”
The drawn-out silence sparked dread inside me. Something was definitely wrong.
“Scar, if you don’t answer me, I’m going to assume you need help and break in the door,” I warned him.
My heart beat painfully hard with suspense. I lifted my fist, ready to knock one more time when the door opened and revealed Scar’s sullen face. Immediately my excitement vanished, replaced by dismay.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, worried.
Wordlessly, Scar held up the pregnancy test. A single line. No plus sign, no double lines. Just one lonely line.
Not pregnant.
“Oh, Scar…” I murmured.
With a growl, Scar tossed the used test angrily in the garbage can. He stormed out into the bedroom and buried his face in his knees. He radiated displeasure, but I knew his outward anger was just a cover-up for how he truly felt—heartbroken and disappointed.
I joined him, putting an arm comfortingly around his shoulders. He tensed but didn’t shrug me away.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s not the end of the world, it just means we have to try again.”
He grunted but didn’t lift his head or otherwise respond.
“You weren’t even in heat. It’s always less of a chance that way,” I added.
“But it still happens, all the time,” Scar growled now, his voice bitter. “I always hear about omegas who get pregnant when they’re not in heat. It’s like all they do is get pregnant.”
“We’re not giving up,” I assured him.
He lifted his head. It was clear by the harsh scowl on his face that my words offered him no solace.
“Maybe we should,” he muttered.
I blinked, shocked. “What? I thought you wanted another child. I thought we both did.”
Scar frowned deeply, his eyes betraying his own sadness. “You think I don’t? I want that more than anything!”
“Then why are you saying we should give up?” I asked gently. I hoped to calm him down and get to the root of the problem.
Again he laid his head on his knees, dejected. “It’s probably my fault.”
“Scar,” I growled. “I thought we were done blaming ourselves.”
“Well, I’m not,” he retorted. “Think about it. I’m older than all the young omegas getting knocked up left and right. It’s just biology. We probably have less of a chance conceiving no matter what. And besides that, who knows if I still have the right organs for it?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” I asked.
He raised his prosthetic arm, scowling. “Did you forget? The human raiders mutilated me. Iknowthey took my arm and leg—but who the hell knows what else they took? They could’ve rendered me infertile, for all I know!”
The fight left Scar’s expression as he collapsed back against the pillow. My heart broke for him. I hated seeing him so upset.
