No, I’m not okay.
I nodded, backing away from him and hiding the test behind me. “Yes, I’m fine. I have to return to work. See you later, alright?”
Pushing past, I bolted across the road, summoned the lift, and flew into my office in record speed.
The moment I was safe, I locked the door and charged into the bathroom.
“Please.Pleasedon’t let me be pregnant.”
The mantra wouldn’t stop echoing in my head. There was no logical way I could be pregnant.Surely!
It was explainable.I’m not pregnant.
My hands trembled as I ripped open the baby-blue box and read the instructions. I’d never had to do this before. It was almost as embarrassing peeing on the testing strip as it was making myself come by a showerhead.
My head pounded.
Was that only last month? Had I gone from writhing with fantasies of Jethro Hawk to spiralling into panic thinking he’d knocked me up?
Oh, God.
“Please, don’t let me be pregnant!”
Shaking, I fumbled with what I had to do. Once done, I placed the cap back on the wet strip and tossed the test into the sink. I couldn’t touch it any longer. I couldn’t look.
Oh, God.
Oh, God!
I stepped away.
I stepped so far away.
I backed up against the wall, bracing myself against the cool grey tile.
I’m not pregnant.
I would know if I was pregnant.
You’ve been throwing up a lot.
That’s explainable.
You suffer from vertigo.
You. Are. Not. Pregnant.
My inner thoughts henpecked and argued, swinging between screaming for being so stupid, to planning how to kill myself just to get this nightmare over with.
Five minutes ticked past, and I still didn’t have the courage to look.
Go on.
Get it over with.
“Nila?”
Oh, my God, this couldn’t get any worse. What was my brother doing in my office? I locked the bloody door!
