My heart kicks against my chest for an entirely separate reason.
There, sitting on the bed, on top of the journal I write in every morning, is an unopened pregnancy test. My hands drop to my stomach, as if I could determine any type of change by touch alone.
I’ve put off taking the test for days, hoping and praying that my typically punctual period would arrive any moment now.
Four weeks since my Las Vegas trip and it has not.
With nothing else to do, I grab the box, but hesitate. My free hand reaches for my phone on the nightstand, dialing before I’m even aware of my actions.
“Hey,” Kandace answers on the second ring.
“Are you still working? I know it’s almost the end of your shift.”
“I’m walking out of the hospital doors as we speak. What’s wrong?”
I push out a breath, my eyelids dropping. The comfort of my best friend’s question soothes the vibrating anxiousness coursing through me in ways I didn’t know I needed.
Or, maybe I did, which is why I called her.
I quickly explain to Kandace what just happened with my job.
“They can’t do that. You’re the best damn employee?—”
“Kandace, there’s more …”
After a deep breath, I tell her about the box I hold in my hand.
“You need to take that test,” she says after a moment of silence.
“You’ll stay on the phone with me?” I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting for her reply.
“Either that or I book the first flight I can find to New York.”
A heavy breath passes through my lips. I hesitated asking because I don’t like asking for help, emotional or otherwise. Even from someone as loving and patient as Kandace.
“I’ll be right back.”
I follow the instructions on the test and then place the stick on the sink before retrieving my phone.
“Explain to me like I’m two how this happened,” Kandace insists while we wait the five minutes.
“You’re a nurse,” I reply.
To which she sucks her teeth. “Don’t think I won’t hop on that plane just to curse you out to your face. I can’t put my hands on a pregnant woman.”
“We’re not sure if I’m pregnant,” I not-so-gently remind her.
“We’ll know soon. How many minutes?”
I glance at the timer on my phone. “Two and a half.”
“Enough time for you to explain. This happened in Vegas?”
“The night I stayed at the Palazzo.”
“I knew that fancy ass hotel was going to get you into trouble.” Kandace had stayed with Patrick, her husband, at the hotel provided for him during his conference.
Groaning, I flop back on the bed. “The one time I decided to splurge.”
